Operation: YES!
by Lyra Matsuoka
Summary: Darien is in need of a prom date. And Serena is available. But when he mucks up the asking, how far will he have to go to convince to girl of his dreams to say yes?
1. Men Are From WHERE?!?!

skiangel_sv@lycos.com  
  
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*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ = change in POV  
- .... - = thought  
  
Operation: YES!!!  
by Lyra Matsuoka  
Rated PG  
  
Chapter One: Men are from WHERE?!?!?  
  
*~*~*~*~* Serena's POV *~*~*~*~*  
  
"So, who are you going to prom with?"  
  
Ah, the question dreaded by single students everywhere. But most   
especially by single *female* students. The Prom, as all girls know,  
is nothing like Sweetheart Ball or Sadie Hawkins. It is up to the guys  
to do the asking for Prom, leaving all girls in mortal fear of being   
left out in the cold. The female of the species has little recourse if  
she is not asked, the set rules of Prom week standing as they do. It  
is chavanistic and old fashioned.  
  
But in spite of the archaic customs which accompany it, everyone   
looks forward to Prom. Even fathers seem to derive a peculiar satisfaction   
out of polishing each gun in their possesion. On Prom night, in full   
view of their daughter's date, thereby convincing him not to attempt  
any thing that might be remotly considered funny buisness. Which makes  
most dates so nervous they don't even try for a goodnight kiss. Still,   
the three weeks before Prom are wracked with a nervous anticipation,  
planning and creative asking techniques.   
  
In the last two weeks, four of my classes had been interupted by  
some guy asking some girl to prom. My phys ed class had been showered   
with sky blue balloons, streamers and sparkling confetti. My history   
lecture on the Crusades had been disturbed by an actor in a fuzzy monkey  
suit singing 'My Girl'. My Spanish teacher gave up on us when we saw a  
guy running down the hall scattering rose petals everywhere. He simply   
couldn't understand why his class might find that more entertaining then  
conjugating basic verbs and filling out worksheets. And yesterday  
I had arrived at school to see a white banner with red lettering flapping   
from the flagpole.   
  
And still, I had not been asked to Prom.  
  
All my friends had been. All their friends had been. But I hadn't   
been asked. Not that I minded too terribly much. No, really, I didn't   
mind. I had never been much in to spending $200 on a dress I was planning  
to wear once and never again, not to mention the exorbitant fees my date   
would be forking out all through the evening. So, though I was feeling a  
little down, I certainly wasn't desperate.  
  
So I couldn't have appeared overly let down or sad when I walked  
into the Crown Arcade on Tuesday, April 14th. It was a full 2 weeks until  
the prophetic Junior-Senior Prom, but the arcade was decked out. Colorful  
streamers were dangling from the doorway. I pushed my way through, batting  
at the crepe paper pieces which seemed determined to cling to my hair and  
clothing. I entered the arcade, and glanced around. It was unusually quiet,  
but I didn't stop to consider that. Instead I walked inside, plopped down  
on a bar stool, and opened the latest issue of 'Seventeen: Prom Special'.  
  
Seeing as how I was so engrossed in my magazine, it was hardly   
surprising that I didn't even glance up at the ringing bell and opening   
door. Nor did I notice when two guys plopped down on the bar stools at the  
opposite end of the counter. I did notice, however, when a voice yelled  
for Andrew.  
  
"Yo, Andrew, I'm hungry out here! How about a little service?"  
  
*That* got my attention, as loud obnoxious yelling tends to do.   
So I glanced up. And what should I see but a stunning pair of sapphire   
blue eyes staring straight at me. And as if the eyes weren't enough,   
they just happened to be attached to one Darien Chiba, football   
quarterback, basketball team captain and star center and the most   
popular guy in school. Right. I returned my eyes to my head and focused   
them on a lovely selection of skin care products before the information   
had time to process. No telling what would have happened if I hadn't done   
that.   
  
However, I did shoot a sidelong glance at his companions. Chad  
Somebody, Greg Somebody and Andrew Who Worked Here. Last names are,  
after all, irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Besides, these  
guys were a grade ahead of me, and therefore considered to be  
alien beings. Anyway, his companions being no great surprise, I went  
back to my magazine.  
  
"So, fellas, how goes the Prom planning?" Andrew asked, placing  
milkshakes and burgers in front of them. "Tuxes?"  
  
"Check," they all replied dutifully.  
  
"Corsages?"   
  
"Check."  
  
"Limo built for eight?"  
  
"Cmmmefk." I interpereted this meaningless sound as a check.  
  
"Date? And who is the lucky girl?"  
  
"Check. Raye Hino," Chad commented. My ears sharpened. Now I *was*  
interested. "She's a junior."   
  
"Nice, nice. Greg?"  
  
"Amy Mizuno. She's Raye's friend and a junior."  
  
"Lovely. I myself am being permitted to escort the lovely Reika.   
Darien?"  
  
To my utmost surprise, Darien Chiba groaned and droped his head to   
the counter and began rythmically pounding it on the formica. I couldn't  
help myself. I stared in shock, which I'm sure made a lovely sight.  
  
Fortunatly, no one was paying the slightest bit of attention to me.  
  
Andrew was obviously surprised. "Is that a check?" he asked.  
  
"Nope," Greg said around a mouthful of beef and tomato.  
Chad swallowed his bite before he contributed.  
  
"Not that he hasn't tried. Every girl he asks either already has   
a date or is convinced that he's playing a practical joke on them. The  
last girl burst into tears and slammed her locker on his hand before   
running off down the hall."  
  
It took a lot of self control not to laugh at that. A whole lot.  
I probably deserve an award of some kind. Andrew didn't bother with  
an attempt. He laughed aloud. I saw Darien raise his head from the   
counter and level a glare at Andrew. He stopped laughing.  
  
"Terrible, terrible thing. Not at all amusing..." Andrew snickered.  
To his credit he *was* trying not to laugh. Not as hard as he could have  
been, but he was trying nonetheless.  
  
"How many have you asked?" Andrew questioned, still trying to  
master his amusment.  
  
Darien held up both hands to reveal nine fingers. He then groaned   
again and covered his head with his hands.  
  
*Nine*? The great Darien Chiba had asked *nine* girls to the biggest  
dance and social event of the high school year and they had *all* turned  
him down?! This was priceless! See, Darien had always struck me as a  
little too cocky, a bit too condescending. He was sarcastic, cold and  
all the girls loved him. Even I was forced to admit he was drop dead   
gorgeous. But that didn't excuse his being an arrogant jerk, which  
he was most of the time. Walked around the school like he owned it,  
all the girls wanting to date him and all the guys wishing they *were*  
him. I really hated that kind of snobbish superiority. And the fact  
that he was obscenly wealthy and let every one know it didn't improve  
my opinion of him. So I was glad to see him knocked down a peg   
or two.   
  
And before you start in on me, I will admit that I had no personal  
reason not to be nice to Darien Chiba. He'd never been unkind to me. But  
I didn't like him. He just...bothered me. So I struggled to keep a   
grin off my face yet again. I wished fervently that I had been there to  
see Darien get his fingers slammed in a metal door! So I was struggling  
to keep my eyes averted and my head down.   
  
And I was saved from being horribly embarassed by laughing my  
a$$ off by my friends Raye, Amy, Lita and Mina, who chose that moment   
to make their grand entrance into the arcade. Amy blushed and ducked   
her head when she saw Greg, and Raye tossed her head and ignored Chad.   
Mina sat down next to me and pulled the magazine toward her.  
  
"Aroma Therapy for Feet: Pamper your Toesies," she read, nonplussed.  
And that gave me the perfect outlet for my laughter. So, nobody glared  
or tried to flatten me and my universe was peaceful again. But as the  
girls chattered around me I tuned back into the conversation that  
was taking place at the other end of the counter.  
  
"Darien, you can't go without a date," Andrew mused.  
  
"Well, no s@$#, Sherlock," Darien stated.  
  
"So, let us think. Who do we know who hasn't been asked to the Prom?"  
  
The guys started tossing out unfamiliar names, and I pulled myself  
back to my friends and their conversation. The arcade was filling quickly  
and the noise level had risen alarmingly, so I couldn't hear what the guys  
were saying anyway. Mina had flipped to the dress section and we were   
glancing through the pages of incredible dresses that were so far out  
of our budget it was expensive to even dream about them. And then came  
the moment I had been dreading all day long.  
  
"So, Serena, who are you going to the Prom with?" Mina asked,   
drooling over a topaz silk creation.  
  
"No one. I haven't been asked," I stated. No, I was not ashamed  
to say it! I was not attending Prom. Of course, the hour I had spent  
practicing those six little words in front of the mirror probably  
hadn't hurt...  
  
Remember the noise level I mentioned earlier? Well, it was  
rising every minute. I never would have imagined that Andrew, Greg,  
Chad and Darien would have heard me say that. But they did. I looked  
up and toward Andrew to order a milkshake and saw his eyes narrowed  
with speculation. A quick glance showed that the other three were  
wearing the same expression. Oh, God. - Avert eyes. Like *now* would  
be appropriate.- But in spite of what my brain was telling my eyes  
to do, my eyeballs had their own ideas. They prefered to stay focused  
right on Darien Chiba. And so I was looking straight at him when his  
self-assured smile started creeping onto his face once more.   
  
I looked away coldly and turned my attention back to my magazine.  
No way would *the* Darien Chiba deign to leap from his pedestal and   
even speak to me...  
  
"Serena? Can I talk to you for a sec?"  
  
Damn.   
  
I looked up into Darien Chiba's face. He was leaning on the counter  
on Mina's other side. A glance around showed my spellbound friends gazing  
at Darien. Great.  
  
"Yes?" I said, schooling my face into calm lines. This was not  
happening.  
  
"Hey, girls, would you mind..." Darien addressed my friends. They  
were gone so fast you'd have thought an air raid siren went off.  
  
"Where's the fire?" I muttered.  
  
"So, Serena," Darien flashed me his lady killer smile.  
  
"So, Darien," I said back. I kept a smile off my face. - Just  
don't encourage him, girl. He doesn't get a response, he'll go away.-  
  
"I couldn't help but overhear that you don't have a date for  
the Prom," Darien began. I raised an eyebrow and looked around the  
arcade. He followed my gaze. Games flashing, beeping and playing  
theme music while kids yelled at each other and thumped hands and  
feet on the plastic and metal of their chosen entertainment console.  
I turned my eyes back to Darien and raised another eyebrow. He grinned  
a little sheepishly.  
  
Now, I feel it critical to explain that I didn't object to  
being asked to Prom. All my friends were going and it would no  
doubt be a good time. What I objected to was being so far down on   
the list of possibles that Mr. Chiba had to get his fingers   
pulverized before he would even deign to glance my way. Not very  
flattering. I, after all, have my standards. But there was always  
the chance that this whole thing was a big mistake. That Mr. Chiba  
would realize that he was about to commit a large social mistake and  
would back off before anything embarrasing happened. Or rather,  
before I was forced to cause a scene.   
  
- Come on, Chiba. Just walk away. Turn around and walk back to  
your friends. Not complicated. Easy, breezy, beautiful...Cover Girl,-  
I thought. And that did it. I smiled broadly and that was all the  
encouragement the dunce needed. A mental joke on my part, and he  
thought that smile was for him. Blast and damn.  
  
*~*~*~*~*Darien's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
She was smiling! Wonderful! This seemed promising. We were  
a full two minutes into the pre-ask conversation and she had  
neither slammed a locker/door in my face/on my fingers and   
her eyes were completely dry - no tears in the making. Better  
and better. And she had admitted that she didn't have a date.  
This was a perfect solution. I'd ask her, she'd say yes, and   
I wouldn't have to endure another round of merciless teasing  
from my so called friends.  
  
- Now, don't let up on the pressure now, Chiba. Time to  
turn up the charm...-  
  
"Serena, did you want to order something?" Andrew butted in.  
Serena swung her head around to focus on my so-called best buddy  
and in so doing missed my megawatt smile. Andrew was a dead man.  
  
"Yeah," Serena chirped. "Double chocolate malt."  
  
"Coming right up," Andrew replied, winking at Serena as  
he walked away. I squashed down my annoyance and turned back to   
the buisness at hand. This would be easy.  
  
"Serena, would you like to go to the Prom with me?" There.  
Simple and straight forward. Serena just stared at me. And burst   
out laughing.  
  
*~*~*~*~*Serena's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
This was great! No wonder the guy couldn't get a date!   
No finesse, no sweet talk. He didn't even bother with a rose  
or carnation or some other type of floral decoration to make  
his blunt proposal seem romantic. And now he looked offended  
by *my* laughter. Tremendous! But, he had asked. And he   
deserved a response. So I took a few deep breaths and managed  
to calm down. It took a few minutes, but I managed it. I looked  
up at him, a smile still playing around my lips.  
  
"No, thank you."  
  
And in a move that would have done Catherine Zeta-Jones   
proud, I flipped my hair and turned back to my magazine. My  
answer took a full three seconds to sink in.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, in my experience, 'no' has only one meaning," I  
replied, idly turning a page in my magazine. Truly stunning  
hairstyles on this page. Gravity defiance was at its height,  
and I was impressed.  
  
"What?" he asked again, this time a little more loudly.  
The noise level in the arcade started going down.  
  
"No, thank you," I stated yet again, this time looking  
up into his blue, blue eyes. He looked gorgeous, as always.   
  
-Be strong...stick to your guns...Why am I saying no?  
Ah, yes, pride...must maintain standards...-   
  
What, you thought it was *easy* for me to maintain this  
effect of cool composure? Please. I really have a fetish for   
blue eyes, and it *really* wasn't fair that he looked that  
good in everyday clothes. I made a mental note to write my   
congressman concerning the issue.  
  
"Might I inquire why?" he asked, his voice dropping to  
a dangerously low level. Okay, now I was getting pissed. Blue  
eyes or no, the boy had the second highest GPA in his class   
for God's sake. This was not compicated!  
  
"You want to know why? Okay, let me fill you in. You,  
oh mighty lord of the school, are not the only one capabal  
of evesdropping. I happened to overhear that *nine* girls  
have turned you down. To be considered only after *nine*   
rejections is bad enough, but the fact that you only asked  
me because I was conveniant *really* annoys me. Perhaps  
you should consider adding a little charm and creativity  
when you ask number *eleven.* Just a suggestion."   
  
"All right," Darien said, his mouth tight and his  
smile somewhat less brilliant. Andrew chose that moment  
to walk over with my chocolate malt. Smiling, I reached   
for it. So did Darien. He got to it first. Grabbing my  
malt, he went down on one knee and held it up to me.  
  
"Darling Serena," he said in a voice that dripped   
with disdain. "Would you do me the honor of attending the  
Prom with me?"   
  
I smiled sweetly, and reached for the frosty glass.   
Darien let go without much of a fight, and I carried it up to   
my mouth and took a sip. Darien was still waiting for  
my reply, and I noticed that all eyes were on us.   
  
Perfect.  
  
No self respecting teenage girl would let that snide, sarcastic  
sorta-kinda-maybe official ask go unanswered. That would be *rude*.  
However, a simple 'no' didn't seem appropriate at this moment.  
No, this situation called for something veeeeeeery special.  
  
Grasping the stem of the glass, I dumped a delicious chocolate   
malt, whipped cream and all, onto Darien Chiba's head. The arcade   
was dead silent; no one was quite sure how to react. Even I   
was surprised. Hey, it takes guts to publicly humiliate   
a high school deity in full view of his minions. And  
Darien Chiba with chocolate sauce and vanilla ice  
cream running down his neck was not a sight that students  
at my school were treated to every day. I think they  
were trying not to laugh. I, on the other hand, was  
trying not to gloat.   
  
"No," I commented. One word, so deadly and   
yet so full of certainty. Then I scooped up my books   
and magazine and walked out into the blinding sun,   
leaving a silent arcade and a dripping athlete in  
my wake.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
So there it is! Whatcha guys think, huh?  
  
By the way, this fic is loosely based on two of the students  
at my school. So, Laura and Josh, I wish you all the happiness in  
the world, and hope that your real life romance is just as wonderful  
as Serena and Dariens and that it lasts just as long.   
  
Hey, guys, got any Prom stories you want to share? Mail me and   
lemme know! Otherwise, just mail me and tell me what you thought of my  
story...  
  
skiangel_sv@lycos.com   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Say What?

lyrasoze@hotmail.com  
  
I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! Did you miss me?   
  
Thanks as always to Lady A, Amanda and George for taking the  
time to post all this fanfiction. Let's hear it for the wonderful  
people who build and support all these sights!   
  
And speaking of sites, guess who has one now? That's right, ME!!!  
I am so terribly proud of myself. Anyway, go check it out, sign  
my guest book, and so on and so forth.  
  
http://www.geocities.com/lyra_2040/lyras_studio.html  
  
To those who e-mail me, lots of love! And I have been getting some  
*great* prom stories from you guys! To my beloved friends and   
fellow Moonies Mary Ann, Skott and Corie...there are no words.  
Jess, I *miss* you! And to Spring, the fabulous webmistress of  
the Spring Library, who has handed the reigns over to Lady A,  
you're the best!  
  
'I is for Ink. Ink is good. Ink is fun. What can you do with Ink?  
What rhymes with Ink? D-R-.....'  
  
-Shel Silverstein 'Uncle Shelby's ABZ's'  
  
Disclaimer - I don't own Sailor Moon. Big surprise. Big. Huge.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ = change in POV  
-...- = thought  
  
Operation: YES!!!  
by Lyra Matsuoka  
Rated PG  
  
Chapter 2: Say What?  
  
*~*~*~*~*Darien's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
I honestly believe that there are no words for a situation  
such as this. It isn't often that a guy drops to one knee, asks a   
girl to Prom, and gets a chocolate malt dumped on his head in return  
for his trouble. The fact that I wasn't being *completely* sincere when  
I asked girl number 10...now, it was that kind of mentality that had   
gotten me into this fix. If I had added just a dollop of honest   
feeling to the last proposal, I probably wouldn't be covered in   
melting chocolate ice cream. And I definitly wouldn't be the   
laughing stock of the arcade. Well, I wasn't the laughing stock   
yet, as no one was actually laughing. The whole place was filled   
with kids gaping at me, waiting for some kind of a response. What   
I needed now was damage control of the worst, or best, kind.   
  
Reaching my hand up, I swiped a dollop of chocolate malt off my  
cheek and tasted it.  
  
"Well, Andrew, I am impressed. When did you learn to cook like   
this?" I asked, flashing a smile at my best friends. Most of the arcade  
laughed at this utterly ridiculous, and yet appropriate, comment, while   
the others continued to gape. How could I blame them? A chocolate covered  
student body president is not a run-of-the-mill occurance. So I smiled again,  
a bit sheepishly this time, got off my knees, and turned back to Andrew.  
  
"Perhaps that was a bit abrupt?" I murmured. Andrew nodded, and Chad  
laughed outright. Greg just dropped his head onto his folded arms and shook  
it back and forth. Andrew reached for a towel and handed it to me. I took it   
and wiped my face and neck, then dragged the towel through my hair in an  
attempt to clear the worst of the ice cream out of it. It was futile, but  
I had to try. Giving up, I draped the towel around my neck and sighed.  
Time to go home and reflect upon this incident. And exactly how I was  
going to deal with it.   
  
I happened to glance over at the cluster of girls which had   
surrounded Serena just before I attempted (yet again) to aquire a date   
for Prom. I honestly couldn't say who was more embarrassed. Me, complete   
with the latest in Hershey's hairdo's, or those four girls, who were   
simply staring at me in shock. A small wave broke the trance, but the   
glazed look of utter stupification didn't quite leave their faces. I   
shook my head again and groaned.   
  
"Hey, man..." Chad started, but I waved him to silence.  
  
"It's okay. I've got it covered," I responded. Waving farewell to   
everyone in the arcade, including Serena's friends, I headed for the  
door. Shower first, then plan of action. Shower, plan of action.  
  
I hopped on my motorcycle, kicked the engine to life and roared  
off down the street. I left my helmet off, as I was unwilling to wash   
chocolate malt out of my leather padded helmet. Unfortunatly, this   
choice left my head bare to scrutiny by the masses, and I got some odd  
looks. I ignored them as best I was able, and that was fairly easy,  
since most people just chalked me up to yet another teenage oddity.  
And I wasn't in much danger, since the combination of preservatives  
and dairy products on my head had solidified to the point that I  
doubted an A-bomb would have made much of a dent.   
  
The shower didn't help much. I entered my apartment building,   
recieving a double take from the doorman, entered the elevator and   
pressed the button, leaning back against the interior of the box.  
I exited the elevator and walked to my apartment, going through the  
motions of a normal evening. After spending half an hour, and a  
great deal of shampoo, in the shower, I ordered out for pizza, and   
attempted to unwind, flopping down on the couch. But I was unable  
to relax. I thought, after nine rejections, that being rejected   
one more time wouldn't matter much. But something about Serena's  
rejection had sparked a challenge. For the first time, a girl had  
put me in my place. And the worst of it was, Serena had been right!  
I had been cocky and insincere. No self respecting female would have   
taken me up on that proposal. So now I was faced with two choices.  
1) Take Serena's advice and apply the knowledge toward my next proposal,  
or 2) Take Serena's advice and apply the knowledge toward convincing   
her to attend the Prom with me. Hmmm. Decisions, decisions.   
  
Obviously, Serena expected me to opt for number 1 and give   
up. Well, to hell with that. By the time I stepped out of the shower,  
I had a plan. Serena was the girl. I would convince her to go to the  
Prom with me no matter what. Neither of us had a date, so that   
wasn't a concern, and I had two weeks to wear her down. Not only that,   
I had money, which equaled the means to a relentless pursuit. What was  
odd about my choice was how blatantly it disregarded any sense of   
masculine pride. *Serena* had rejected *me*, and under diffferent  
circumstances I would have let it be.   
  
But this was different. She had no *reason* not to like me. I'd  
never done anything to her...had I? No way, I would have remembered. Or  
Greg or Chad would have rembered for me. So no, I'd never done anything  
to her. And I will admit to being a little hurt by this particular  
rejection. I had feelings, dammit! So, Serena wanted to play this way,  
fine. This meant war.  
  
*~*~*~*~*Serena's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
I believe it took three minutes after leaving the arcade for the   
full implication of what I had just done to sink in. I wasn't sorry, not  
at all. Chiba had deserved it beyond a shadow of a doubt. But no person  
with an ounce of self respect would allow malt a la cranium to slide by,  
especially not with an added dollop of public humiliation. And the fact   
that Chiba was the student body god increased my chances of a vile and   
horrific payback.   
  
But I wasn't worried. Okay, so I was a bundle of jangling nerves, but  
that was the adreniline rush. Or rather, me coming down off of the adreniline  
rush. I was *not* afraid. No way, no how. Upwards of sixty people had seen me   
turn the tables on Darien Chiba, and that was just enough to make certain   
that the gossip mills ran for a few weeks. I knew that Chiba would be forced to  
retaliate eventually, and God only knew that he had far more creative   
ways to get even than I ever would. But I managed to banish that thought,  
and the thought of the upcoming Prom, for a few more minutes, thinking only of   
how utterly sweet revenge had been. I finally got home, mere moments before  
my six o'clock check in. Not that my parents don't trust me, but they are   
a little worried about me disappearing into the black of night. Odd, I know,  
but what are ya gonna do?  
  
So I stepped through the door of my house and into chaos. The phone   
ringing, 'Final Fantasy XX' blaring on the TV, my mom yelling at Sammy to   
turn his game down, and my dad attempting to hear what was being said on   
the nightly news report through the tinny speakers of our itty bitty   
kitchen television box.   
  
"I'm home," I announced, making certain that my mother saw me,   
so as to avoid punishment in the near future. I got a spatula gesture in   
return for my troubles, so I stopped attempting communication and headed   
upstairs to my room. Peace and quiet were sure to await me there...until   
I saw the rapidly blinking light on my answering machine. My darling   
parentals had caved on my sixteenth birthday, allowing me my own phone   
line. So, I had splurged some of my birthday money on an answering machine,   
a descision I had never regretted. I counted the flashes. 1, 2, 3, 4. Wow.   
It was a busy day if I got even one message. So I smiled and hit the 'Play'   
button while I changed out of my school clothes and reached for my casual   
pink skirt.  
  
'Hello, this is Serena's microwave. Her answering machine just eloped   
with her tape deck, so I'm stuck taking her calls. If you'd like anything   
cooked while you leave your message, just hold it up to the phone.'  
  
'Serena, *why* do you find that amusing? Raye here. Do you have *any*  
idea what you have done?! Darien Chiba asked you to the Prom and you dumped  
a milkshake on his head! Are you nuts?!?! Don't bother answering that, I   
already know that you are. My best friend is a bonafide psychopath! Call me  
tonight. We have to talk.' BEEP.  
  
'Serena, Mina. The gossip mills are in motion, babe! You have just done  
what I considered to be impossible. You have turned the gossip machine on  
Darien Chiba! I salute you. You are my hero! Call me!' BEEP  
  
'Serena, this is Amy...and Lita! The world wants to know, how did it  
feel to create the first Chiba sundae? Lita...stop that. Serena, what did he  
say to you? LITA! Serena, call me...us, call us. I'm at Lita's.' BEEP  
  
I shook my head as I slipped my pink skirt and a white top on. Raye  
was probably right. I was probably nuts. But it felt so good to be crazy...  
The last beep on my machine pulled me out if my self satisfaction.  
  
'Serena? Hi. This is Darien,'  
  
I stopped dead in my tracks.  
  
'I realize we got off to a bad start, and I was hoping that you'd  
allow me the opportunity to correct that. A proverbial second chance if  
you will. Forgive me my unforgivably rude actions today, and allow me  
to begin anew'  
  
I slowly turned my head around, eying the answering machine as   
though it were a bomb.  
  
'I'll see you at school tomorrow. Later.' BEEP  
  
And that was it. I was left with a very cryptic message, a sense   
of the surreal, and four best friends who thought I was crazy. After   
that message, I wasn't all together convinced they were wrong. But I   
didn't feel crazy. What I felt was nervous. Darien Chiba didn't just   
call girls up and ask for a second chance. Why was he bothering with   
me? I was a nobody. So what was Chiba planning? This had all the   
earmarkings of trouble, and I sensed it. I decided not to return his   
call. Petty and rude, but I'd do it anyway. Chiba wanted to talk to me,   
he could talk to me in person, tomorrow!   
  
I felt an absurd desire to tack 'under the willow trees. Bring your  
dueling pistols and your sword' onto the end of that thought. I needed to  
get out more.   
  
I realized then that Darien hadn't left a phone number. All the   
better. A ready made excuse not to call back. I probably could have   
found his number, but calling every girl in my grade didn't make a great   
deal of sense, and besides, I could smell dinner. So I tripped downstairs   
and pretended that my day had gone well.   
  
I didn't return any phone calls. My friends would be miffed, but   
getting used to disappointment is a lesson we must all learn. So I played   
'Final Fantasy' Number Four Million Three Thousand and Fifty Two with my   
brother and helped my mom bake chocolate chip cookies. Well, she baked,   
I ate cookie dough, but I did provide companionship. I tumbled into bed,   
breathing in the scent of fabric softener as I drifted off; and I dreamed   
of an impossibly blue sky; a sky of a hue that only existed in Darian   
Chiba's eyes.  
  
*~*~*~*~*Next Day*~*~*~*~*  
  
Music. There was music playing. Loudly. Next to my ear. Ahhh.   
Alarm clock. Well, that was all right then. I rolled over and slapped   
ineffectivaly at my radio alarm. It didn't shut off. Stoneage piece   
of junk. I tried to drift off again, but the sound of the DJ's voice   
forced me awake, reeling off the weather report, a few fascinating   
local events, and then moving on to the real important stuff...Teenage  
Calendar.  
  
"Well, looks like Prom is coming right up! Everybody got their   
dresses or tuxes, their corsages and dinner reservations? Most   
importantly, have you got a *date*? Cause I know one guy who doesn't,   
and one girl that's gonna be happy today. Mr. Bluebird, get ready to   
sit on a certain shoulder. Hey, Serena Tsukino? You there? I really   
hope so, cause some lucky guy wants to ask you to Prom! Friends, call   
Serena, tell her to tune in. You've got thirty seconds."  
  
I sat up, staring at my alarm clock. So, this was Darien's revenge.   
Clever, very clever. I groaned, and buried myself under mounds of pillows.   
This was not happening. Okay, thirty seconds. Who would it be? Raye, Amy,   
Lita or...RING!!!  
  
I reached for the phone, halfheartedly at best.  
  
"Serena, Mina! Turn on your radio right now! Now, girl! MOVE!!!   
See you at school." Click. Whirlwind Mina strikes another peaceful   
suburban residance. Back came the DJ. I sat up in bed.  
  
"Serena, I hope you are there. I've got a lovely card in my hand.   
Lemme just read it for the listening pleasures of our entire audience.   
You don't mind, do you?"  
  
I wondered briefly if there was a force in the cosmos powerful   
enough to stop him.  
  
"Dearest Serena,"  
  
-Just say the name.-  
  
"Would you do me the extreme honor of attending the Prom with me?"  
  
-Simple enough. Just say the name.-  
  
"I could not possible attend if you were not on my arm. I offer   
nothing but a fabulous meal, a limosine for two and the world at your feet."  
  
-Say the name!! There is a slim chance that I am wrong about this,   
and if I am then I want to hear it. I don't want to shoot the wrong guy.-  
  
"Your faithful servant, Darien Chiba."  
  
-Damn.-  
  
I could practically hear Mina's scream across town. I wasn't the   
least interested in what any of my friends had to say. So I took my phone   
off the hook and buried it under three throw pillows and my comfortor.   
This was ridiculous! I was annoyed, and I was seriously considering   
staying in bed for the rest of my adolescent life. But the DJ wasn't   
through with me.  
  
"How about it, Serena? Make a guy happy! And keep us posted."  
  
Posted? I'd keep him posted all right. I'd post him right up   
the...wait. Posted? Post...  
  
My halo was knocked askew by the little horns that sprang out   
of my head. Of course I had no intention of saying yes. This 'proposal',   
for lack of a better term, was just as insulting as the last. So it called   
for a little something extra. No milkshakes were handy, but I'd do without.   
I had another plan. I went to my closet and pulled out one of my cutest   
outfits. I dressed and went downstairs to get Sammy's markers, a positively   
wicked smile on my face.  
  
*~*~*~*~*Darien's POV*~*~*~*~*   
  
Even I was forced to admit that the DJ had done a nice job. He had   
read the card with a certain finesse, and now, as I saw it, Serena had two   
options. Say yes and be embarrassed by the way she was asked, or say no and   
be embarrassed for saying no. But the little voice in the back of my head   
added a third. She could retaliate in some horrible way. Not in a repeat   
of the milkshake-on-head; she was too creative for that. The more I thought   
about it, the more all three options appealed to me. Win-Win. After all, I   
had quite a few surprises left for Ms. Tsukino, and I really  
wanted to try some of them out.   
  
My morning had begun rather early, as I was forced out of bed   
at a rather obnoxious hour so that I could get the card in to the radio   
station and talk to the DJ before he went on the air. So I was sitting in   
a jazzy coffee house sipping on a cappuchino and wolfing down a gigantic   
chocolate muffin when I heard the announcement. Well, this was lovely. So I   
headed off to school, a smile on my face. Things were going just according   
to plan, and I was rather pleased withmyself. I wondered how Serena was going   
to react this time.  
  
I didn't have to wonder long. Our school is a fairly large place,   
but there is one spot where every student must pass every day. The front   
entry. This marble monstrosity is located right in the middle of an   
incredibly busy street, and is absolutely impossible to miss. By the   
time I got to school, almost every student was arriving. And the front   
entryway was blocked by a large group of gawking students, all of them   
staring up. I stopped and stared at them. Someone near the back saw me,   
and very quickly spread the word. Soon everyone was looking at  
me rather than up. So I looked up.   
  
And what should I see but a large piece of butcher paper strung   
across the top of the entry for all and sundry to see. Not that there   
was much danger of anyone missing it, since the letters were rather   
large and in various shades of red.  
  
NOT A CHANCE, CHIBA.  
  
I had to hand it to her. This was inspired. I was very appriciative   
and amused. And I let it show by smiling broadly at the group of students   
watching me eagerly. Everyone wanted to see what I would do. I chuckled   
for their benefit and headed into the school building. I resisted the   
urge to rub my hands together in a thoroughly evil fashion. So, she'd   
taken the prize behind door number three. Goodie.  
  
I had not yet begun to fight.  
  
*~*~*~*~*Serena's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
I sank into my first hour seat with a delighted sigh. After   
coloring my fingers to the bone and nearly killing myself hanging that   
sign (though I'd enlisted Lita's reluctant help with that task) I was   
looking forward to simply sitting down and taking mindless notes for   
50 minutes.   
  
Alas, it was not to be.  
  
Everyone in school listens to that blasted radio station.   
And everyone knew that Darien had asked 'Serena' to the Prom.   
There is only one Serena in our entire school. Lucky, lucky me.   
And what was odd was that all the girls seemed to think that I   
*was* lucky. Of course, had I been an observer, instead of the  
unfortunate victim of these events, I probably would have seen  
it as romantic and wonderful as well.  
  
And to make my life even more glamorous, the story of my   
dramatic malt disposal on Chiba's head had spread to the far   
reaches of the school. Oh, joy.  
  
And due to my reckless behavior (and the sign I had strung across   
the front entry of our school) every girl in my homeroom was now my   
*very* best friend. And they let me know how much they cared by   
clustering around my desk and asking questions in a garbled fashion.   
I just smiled and nodded. The true secret to a happy existance:   
just smile and nod.   
  
RING!  
  
Saved by the bell.  
  
My new following headed reluctantly for their respective desks,   
and the teacher began role call. I began to relax. Big mistake. Big.   
Huge.  
  
"Serena."  
  
"Present."  
  
"And attending Prom, I hear," my teacher said, winking at me.  
Oh, God. Now, my homeroom teacher is a nice enough person as teachers  
go, but she trained as a preschool-kindergarten teacher, and had taken  
the position at the high school only until a position opened up in the  
primary grades. Hence the winking, smiling, and generally cheery   
attitude.  
  
"Not attending. She's been asked twice, by the same guy, and   
she's said no both times!"  
  
I resisted the urge to turn about and locate the traitorous  
girl who had opened her mouth. I simply stared straight ahead,   
refusing to participate in this discussion.  
  
"But Darien Chiba asked her this morning," my teacher said,  
bewildered. "I heard it on the radio."  
  
"He asked her yesterday, too!"   
  
And the peaceful homeroom was shattered by gossip. I opened   
my notebook to write a complaint to the student council while various  
tidbits about my love life flew around me. My teacher was aghast at  
the idea that anyone would turn Darien Chiba down. I was halfway   
through my complaint when I realized that Chiba was the President  
of the Student Council. I tore out the letter and crumpled it up.  
I was about to attempt a three-point shot into the trashcan when   
the intercom chimed to life.  
  
I smoothed out my crumpled sheet of paper and began drawing   
while the date and lunch menu were read. I doodled through   
announcements concerning various clubs, and through soccer,  
track, and baseball announcements. The boring voice of the  
principal bid us good day, and on came a smooth, sexy   
personality that I was beginning to despise. I pretended  
not to notice.  
  
"Good morning! This is your student body president."  
  
My entire class swiveled to gauge my reaction. I just smiled  
serenely. He hadn't quit after being brained with a milkshake, but  
the sign was sure to call a halt to this ridiculous, and insulting,  
pursuit. So I had nothing to be worried about.  
  
Chiba went on for a while, reporting the senior class fundraiser,  
performance dates of the senior class play, and then he moved on to  
more important matters. Namely, the Prom. Decoration commitee,   
refreshments, pictures, and so on and so on. Having heard all this  
a million times before, and it not being relevant to my life, I tuned  
it out.  
  
"And finally, the most important question of all. Do you have  
a date?"  
  
Most girls in my class nodded, a few shrugged. I was the only   
one who didn't react at all.  
  
"Cause I don't."  
  
I froze. Every other girl made symathetic sounds in the back of  
their throats, an endeavor I did not undertake. I pretended not to  
notice the little shivers that walked up and down my spine at the   
sound of his voice.  
  
"That's right. I, your student body president, do not have a  
date for the Prom. And in spite of numerous attempts to correct that  
situation, I have remained dateless. However, I remain undaunted."  
  
- No way. It's simply not possible that he would try again. I   
am worrying for nothing. -  
  
But a little part of me was disappointed. Okay, a big part   
of me. I *really* wanted to go to Prom, just not with a guy who   
was so utterly insulting. Even if he did have amazingly   
blue eyes and a sexy smile. I worried for nothing.  
  
"How about it, Serena? I've got the tux if you've got the time.  
Have a nice day, all!"  
  
I stared at the intercom. The class stared at me. When I made  
no move to respond, my teacher broke the silence.  
  
"Yes, well..." she trailed off. The bell chimed again, signaling  
the end of homeroom. I grabbed my bag, and was nearly out the door  
when the intercom buzzed to life again.   
  
"I've also got a limosine and reservations for dinner. What do  
you say, Serena?"  
  
I glared at the intercom, turned around, grabbed an eraser from   
the chalk tray and threw it at the hapless intercom. It came back down   
in a suffocating cloud of chalk dust, which I did not have to choke  
through because I was already stalking down the hall. Now I   
refused on principal. Resistance had become duty. I swore that I   
heard the national anthem playing in the background as I walked to  
my next class.   
  
It didn't stop with the intercom message. A heart shaped box of   
chocolates on my desk in Spanish. My favorite kind, of course. A  
bouquet of pink, white, and baby blue balloons in my history class   
anchored by a large white teddy bear, which was actually rather  
adorable. My history class thought I should say yes. So did my   
Spanish class. I thought that one of my friends had turned traitor.  
How had he known about the chocolates? And balloons in my favorite   
colors anchored by my favorite type of stuffed animal was just too  
perfect. So I began formulating an evil plot to get even with  
whichever one of my friends was batting for the other team.  
  
The near breaking point that Chiba had no doubt been waiting  
for occured during phys ed. And it was so subtle that I hardly   
knew what hit me. I had dressed down and was about to head for   
the gym when a girl in my class came up to me and handed my a   
paper heart, folded in two. I opened it, to read one word...  
Please? And it was written in little hearts.   
  
Oh, man! He was not playing fair! He didn't get to be nice!  
Chocolates, balloons, stuffed animals, those were all fair game.  
With a little strength of character, I could handle those. All  
I had to do was remember those blue eyes mocking me in the arcade.  
But he was not allowed to be sweet!   
  
That thought kept me blazing through the day. Well, near the  
end I wasn't actually blazing. I was gimping along, my bag full of  
books, chocolate, and paper heart in one hand, my teddy bear in the  
other, with the balloons trailing along behind me. I was entertaining   
the idea of returning the gifts in plain view of the school when I   
reached my locker. With my free hand I reached to twist the combination  
into the padlock, and when the lock gave way, I swung the metal door  
open.   
  
I put my history book and Spanish flashcards in my locker,  
and pushed the door shut, anticipating a rather embarrasing ride  
home. It is not everyday that one sees a girl walking down the  
street laden with a large teddy bear. And, of course, some wise  
a$$ would ask me *why* I was carrying a giant teddy bear down   
the street. And then I would have to choose. Either I would  
be kind and polite and answer the moron's question, or I  
would drop my teddy bear on the street, tackle the jerk  
and install him/her as a permanent fixture on the nearest  
telephone pole. Probably with a staple gun. A blue staple gun.  
Maybe this hapless victim would have dark hair, sexy eyes  
and an extremely kissable mouth.  
  
Waking myself, I resisted the urge to kick my locker.  
I settled for just slamming it shut. And when I turned around,  
my fantasies came to life. My six foot two inch, black haired,  
blue eyed, annoying, frustrating, baffeling, sexy, amazing,   
incredible, drop dead gorgeous fantasy sprang out of my  
daydreams and into the space in front of me. I wasn't sure  
whether to smack him or throw the teddy bear at him. I did   
neither.  
  
I dropped the teddy bear, balloons, my bag and looked   
right at him. He looked back, a slight smile on his lips. He  
looked sincere and sweet and open and charming. And  
I did the only thing I could think of at the time.   
  
I closed the miniscule distance between us, looked up at  
him, and with the memory of that paper heart in mind, I reached   
my arms up, looped them around the student body president's neck,  
pulled him down to my level, and pressed my lips to his.  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
So, whatcha think? Mail me and lemme know! *Lyra hugs her  
laptop* I love this thing! Not only can I check my email  
anywhere that has a telephone line, but I get to pick  
my own wallpaper! I currently have the manga picture of  
Sailor Pluto from Act 18 of the manga up. I just love it!  
  
lyrasoze@hotmail.com   
  



	3. Whose Line Is It, Anyway?

lyrasoze@hotmail.com  
  
Hi everyone! I have returned. Scary isn't it? Have you noticed that  
all my chapter titles are questions? No coincidence, I assure you.  
Actually, it is, and I just noticed it and I tried to come up with   
some type of dazzling symbolisim or a hilarious and witty reason  
for said question-titled chapters. Drew a blank. So, they simply   
are. Eh.  
  
Visit my Studio (please!) and sign my GuestBook (please!)  
http://www.geocities.com/lyra_2040/lyras_studio.html  
  
Thank you to Monica, Laura, Emily, Jen, Jen Squared and Jen Cubed, Amy, Mike's 1 and 2, Ashton, Zane, Lucas, Becky, Emily, Hannah, Kurt, Liz, Lezlie, Ben, Kaliswa and Tyler. You have all made these past few weeks educational and bright with your smiles and friendship. I love you all.  
  
Enjoy the story and don't forget to email me to tell me what you think!  
  
Disclaimer: I have no money. Higher education is sucking my   
resources dry, so if you sue me, all you get is  
a bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos and a few movies.   
Not really worth your time, as I'm sure all you  
corporate lawyers will agree.  
  
Operation: YES!!!  
Chapter 3: Whose Line Is It, Anyway?  
Rated PG-13  
  
*~*~*~*~*Darien's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
My day had been going rather well. My informants in each of   
Serena's classes had been more than willing to relate her reactions  
to all my presents throughout the day. I must admit to being a bit  
concerned after the eraser episode. But I remained calm, and my  
hopes soared after hearing how her eyes had softened and her lips  
had curved into a smile upon recieving my simple paper heart.  
  
The same lips that were now pressed to mine.  
  
I hadn't known what to expect when I stopped by her locker  
after school. I hoped to hear a 'Yes, Darien I would be delighted  
to attend the Prom with you.' Though I expected something more   
along the lines of 'All right, Chiba, I give up!' I would have  
been thrilled with either answer. But instead of replying verbally,  
Serena dropped the teddy bear, balloons and her bag to wrap her  
arms around me. And to pull my head down to hers and touch her  
lips to mine.  
  
- Wow. Umm, right. Well, nothing for it. After all, she   
started it. So, I might as well participate. -  
  
Good strong logic. So after a millisecond of shock, I closed   
my arms around her and pulled her body closer to mine. The kiss  
fairly chaste, just two lips touching two lips. But after a   
while, male instinct compelled me to heat it up a bit, so I  
bid logic a fond farewell and turned the reigns over to my hormones.  
I nudged her lips with mine, never breaking the contact. She was  
very willing to follow my lead, and parted her lips ever so  
slightly. I did the same, and the kiss progressed from calm  
and controlled to just below boiling.   
  
Now, I remember every detail of this kiss. And why? Well,  
aside from the fact that it was taking place in the main hallway  
of my high school, it was the most wonderful kiss I had ever  
experienced. There was genuine feeling behind it. And the feeling was not coming only from her. And I was not about to muck it up by pulling away.  
  
*~*~*~*~*Serena's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
I have a serious impulse control problem. I accept this as  
a basic character flaw, one that I intended to work on and improve.  
The idea of kissing Chiba occured to me in a flash as the perfect  
way to get rid of him. The theory was that I would kiss him, he  
would be startled, pull away, and cease his pursuit. I didn't  
count on him being an active participant. Not only had he *not*  
pulled away, he had pulled me closer. And the fact that he seemed  
to be enjoying himself did not help at all. The mere notion that  
*I* was enjoying myself was catastrophic.  
  
And I was having a *damn* good time. I mean, I am neither  
carved from ice nor dead, and any red blooded female being kissed  
rather skillfully by a six foot two, raven haired, blue eyed  
exceptionally attractive male is going to feel something. So,  
the seconds passed, and Chiba intensified the kiss, and I was  
in heaven and not ashamed to admit it.  
  
It was the clapping that tore me out of my blissful little  
bubble. That and the calls of 'PDA! PDA!' that my classmates were  
yelling. I opened my eyes slightly and beheld Darien's friends, my  
friends, and a circle of total strangers standing around us in a   
semicircle. Great.   
  
So I pulled back. I didn't want to, and it may very well have  
been the hardest thing I will ever do, but I broke the kiss. Chiba   
let me break the kiss, but he didn't let me go. I moved as far away   
from him as I could, but he was having none of that, and pulled me  
back. I pulled away, he pulled me back. Not that I was putting up  
much of a fight, mind you. The semicircle began to disperse, whispers  
of 'She has to say yes now!' abounding.  
  
- *Why* does the whole school give so much of a damn about my love life? - I pondered this question briefly as I concentrated on putting a large amount of space between me and the only person I had ever met who had the disturbing ability to make my hormones dance the mambo.   
  
"Let go," I whispered.   
  
He did. I retreated several paces and he leaned back against   
the lockers, smiling slightly. He didn't move and neither did I.  
  
"Are you leaving?" I asked, tinging my voice with disdain.  
  
"Are you?" he responded with a wider smile. I got the  
distinct impression that he wasn't leaving until I did. Great.  
So we just stood for a while, staring at each other in an  
empty hallway.   
  
"Uh, Serena?"   
  
I turned. There was Anthony, one of the cutest boys in the   
junior class. I flipped on my megawatt smile, and tipped my  
head to the side in a way that I have been told accents my eyes  
and causes my hair to cascade to one side. And I know it is true  
because I have practiced in front of the mirror. Always good to  
be prepared!  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Well, I was wondering...I know that Darien Chiba asked you  
already, but I heard you said no, and so I was wondering if maybe  
you wanted to go to the Prom with me?"  
  
I couldn't believe it. Salvation was at hand. I would accept,  
Darien would find someone else to harass, and all would be well. But  
the tiniest part of me was dissappointed. It had been really  
flattering to have Darien Chiba spending so much money and time  
on me. I could afford to admit that now. So I smiled at Anthony   
again, and opened my mouth to say yes...  
  
Chiba kicked off from the lockers, and walked around to my  
side. He towered over me, and now that I was looking, I saw that  
he was taller than Anthony too.   
  
"The lady is taken," Chiba stated, his voice as calm and   
unruffled as ever.  
  
"Oh, right. Silly of me to even ask. Of course you'd choose  
to go with him..." and Anthony scurried away, taking with him my  
last ray of hope for Prom. It took me a moment to stop gaping in  
the direction that Anthony had gone. I admit that my wits had   
packed their bags and headed to Cancun without me. They returned  
shortly, tamales, hot sauce and a few other spices in hand.  
  
Furious, I whirled away from Darien, bending to gather my   
things. He knelt to assist me. I snatched my bag from his hands,   
stood, and marched down the hall. He followed. He didn't try to   
talk to me; he just walked along beside me, a menacing presence.   
We reached the front doors in record time, I moved to bump the   
door open with my hip, and he not only pushed the door open   
before I did, he held it open for me!  
  
I had a sudden mental picture of the evening of Prom. Chiba  
seemed to be a gentleman in every sense of the word, meaning that  
he would not only open doors for me, he would probably pull my   
chair out at the resteraunt and stand up when I left the table  
and when I returned. I love it when guys do that. Admit it ladies,   
we are all suckers for romance. And this guy had all the right moves.  
  
Unfair. Deeply and truly unfair. And the reason it was so unfair is that not many guys are aware of little things like that. And when they do remember, and better yet, when they remember *for me*, my heart just melts.   
  
I think Chiba knew at that moment just how close I was to   
breaking down. I think this because when I returned my mind to  
my body, he was staring down at me with this soft smile. I realized   
that I had been staring at him and had yet to walk through the   
door, which he was still holding for me. I smiled slightly and  
walked through. Temptation was strong to say yes. And then I  
remembered how arrogant he had been at the arcade and how he  
had ruined my chances to go to Prom with anyone else.  
  
I turned and faced him.  
  
"Haven't you done enough for one day? Not only have you   
embarrassed me repeatedly," -No, I will *not* admit to being  
flattered by the attention. I will resist! Must be strong.   
Damn those eyes are sexy. No, must be strong...- "but you  
have ruined my chances to go to the Prom, an event that I,  
surprisingly enough, want to attend!"   
  
I paused after my tirad, rather proud of myself. He  
looked surprised, and then smug and self-assured. Oh, no.  
I must have said something to encourage him...  
  
"Well, I am delighted to hear that you want to attend  
Prom."  
  
-Damn it!-   
  
"It just so happens that I am available that night..."  
  
"Do you ever give up?!"  
  
"Not often, no."  
  
I shook my head back and forth. I gave in to exasperation and  
puzzlement.  
  
"Why are you doing this to me? I am not popular, I am not   
the little sister of one of your friends. So why are you doing   
this to me?"  
  
"Because you're a great kisser."  
  
Oh, that was good. Really good. I gaped at him. He found a   
better use for my mouth. He leaned in and covered my mouth with   
his before my sarcastic sense of pride got me in trouble again.   
I made a mental note to thank him someday. Unfortunately, the  
location of this kiss was even more public than the last, and   
it wasn't long enough after school for the majority of the   
student body to head back home. So even more of my classmates  
saw Darien Chiba and me locked in a deeply interesting embrace.  
  
And I was not getting off as easily as I had the last time.  
He locked his arms around me so that he was in control. And I,  
for some *odd* reason, didn't feel like fighting. Thump. That   
was my bag and teddy bear falling to the ground. Thump. That  
was his bag hitting cement.   
  
I wiggled a little and his arms tightened. Obviously, Darien  
was not letting me go. Notice that my brain had made the transition  
from 'Chiba' to 'Darien'. I theorized that kissing someone in plain   
view of our entire school put us on a first name basis.  
  
The moments passed  
  
*~*~*~*~*Darien's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
That question shook me. Why *was* I doing this? Her question made  
a great deal of sense. After all, before yesterday I had barely been  
aware of her existance. And then she had been in the right place at  
the right time...and now I was in relentless pursuit of a girl I knew  
virtually nothing about.  
  
Crazy. She was right. I was crazy.  
  
But I wanted to know her. When she asked that question, I realized that I wanted to know this girl. I wanted to talk to her, find out more than what her favorite chocolates were and what the teddy bear she'd wanted for her collection looked like. I wanted to know *her*. What interested her, what bored her to death, what her favorite book was, what kind of movies she liked. I wanted to get to know her.   
When I realized that, my attitude toward this whole pursuit changed.  
It wasn't about winning anymore. I genuinely wanted Serena to attend  
the Prom with me.   
  
What I should have done was tell her that. But I am not really   
all that great at expressing my emotions. So I kissed her instead.  
  
Hey, whatever works.  
  
And it worked. Boy, did it work. I locked my arms around her waist and she wrapped her arms around my neck, and the building could have exploded and I wouldn't have given a damn. Of course, an explosion didoccur. My classmates all stopped where they stood for a few moments, andstarted cheering all at once. And it was an explosion of great quality. Applause, cheers, whooping, 'You go, girl!' and 'Awesome, man!' surrounded us. I was more than willing to pretend that they didn't exist. Serena was not quite so willing. She pulled back a little, and I let her go. Stupid is what that was. An incredibly stupid thing to do.   
  
She looked at me, knelt, picked up her things and started to stalk away. Hold on, time out. Had we not just kissed? I reviewed the facts. Why, yes, we had. In front of the majority of our school. And she had been a willing participant. And yet she was walking away from me mere moments after our second kiss in less than 8 minutes had ended. And she hadn't responded to my repeated proposals! And she was glaring at me. Whoa, if looks could kill...  
  
But I had to try one more time. I reached out and touched her shoulder. When I did, she turned and our eyes met.  
  
"Please?" I whispered. My lips barely moved, and I am surprised she heard me. She looked at me, her eyes searching mine carefully. Looking for ulterior motives or the meaning of life, I couldn't really be sure which.   
  
No response. None at all. She just stared at me, and the expression in her eyes shifted slowly from searching and to furious.  
  
"Back off, jocko," she stated, and stalked down the street, balloons bobbing behind her.   
  
I watched her go, my body stiff with tension. Well, I had no one to blame but myself. Instead of telling that beautiful, exasperating, fun loving, milkshake-dumping girl that I really wanted to escort her to the Prom, I had acted like a prime evil Neanderthal. Og want mate, club mate with briefcase, drag off by hair.   
  
Well, hell.  
  
But I took it as encouragement that there had been little malice in her parting words, and more confusion masked with sarcasam. And so I had no intention of backing down. I had one more ace up my sleeve.  
  
*~*~*~*~*Serena's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
I got all the way home in a cloud of righteous indignation. I realized as I made my way up the stairs that I had instigated the first kiss. I made it all the way to my bedroom before my anger faded just enough to remind me that I had been a willing participant in the second kiss. And by the time I had dropped my armload of stuff, I was feeling distinct pangs of remorse for my harsh words.   
  
I had been unfair, unreasonable, and just a tad bratty. I hate it when I slip into that kind of mentality. It annoyed me to no end that I had not caught myself. I felt bad, that's what I felt. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep before I apologized.  
  
Now, it is important to note here that I was feeling guilty. And if there is a person in the world who has never felt that apprehensive tightening and numbing of the stomach muscles, then they have never truly lived. And my problem is that once I begin feeling guilty, I concentrate on what I've done until it is blown completely out of proportion in my mind. Another character flaw I simply must improve upon.   
  
And so it was that I found myself staring at my phone, which had been beeping rather aggrivatingly when I came into the room. Now that it was back on the hook, the contraption just sat there, a silent piece of plastic and insulated wire. I reached for it several times before I managed to convince myself to actually pick up the reciever. And when I did, I dialed information. I was not about to call a random classmate, or worse, one of my friends, to acquire Darien's phone number. So I called the impersonal and completly neutral people at the other end of 411 for the information I sought.  
  
The man on the other end of this converstation provided me the number, and asked if I would like to be connected at no charge. I declined. And that was the end of that. I placed the reciever in the cradle and stared at the slip of paper in my hand. Just 8 numbers seperating me from a good night's sleep. And I needed my rest. With a bravado I didn't feel, I picked the reciever up once again and began pressing the digits. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8. I held the reciever. The connection rang once. Twice. Three times. Again.  
  
'Hey. You have the machine. You know what to do.'  
  
BEEP.  
  
'Darien, this is Serena. I'm sorry I snapped at you after the, uh, the...kiss. I didn't mean it and I hope I didn't hurt your feelings. Thanks.'  
  
And I hung up, feeling vindicated and as though a huge weight had lifted off my shoulders. I had been calm, neutral, and managed not to hang up just after the beep. I had left a message. Wonderful! I felt much better. And so, apology completed, I headed downstairs for dinner.  
  
*~*~*~*~*Darien's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
When I walked into my apartment later that afternoon, the last thing I expected was a message. I have neither name nor number on my message, and that means that no one is certain whether they have called the right number. So they hang up. It discourages most people. And yet today, the message light was flashing. Curious, I walked over to the small gray box and pushed the long white button.  
  
'Darien, this is Serena. I'm sorry I snapped at you after the, uh, the...kiss. I didn't mean it and I hope I didn't hurt your feelings. Thanks.'  
  
BEEP.  
  
To say I was blown away would be an understatement of the largest genre. An apology? For putting me in my place again?   
  
Cool.  
  
I would not take this as an encouragement. That would be premature. But there had been a connection this afternoon. So, the way I had it figured, I had one more shot with Serena.   
  
I spent the majority of the evening completing my homework and pondering my last chance. Publicly announcing my intentions and invitation hadn't worked, and neither had scattering little gifts in strategic locations. The only thing I hadn't tried was personal invitation. That was what I had to do. Once more, with feeling.  
  
As I began my preperations, I smiled. This time, I wouldn't screw up. This time, I would be charming, genuine and earnest. This time, she would say yes.   
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Whew! That took quite a bit of doing to get done. Lots of *evil* writers block. But I managed to make it to the end at long last! I hope you enjoyed it...  
  
To all those who have reviewed on Fanfiction.net, I thank you sincerly. I never expected this kind of response to Operation: YES!!! and am so honored that so many of you enjoyed it.   
  
Now that I have thanked you all, *please* review! I live off of feedback. I thrive from feedback. I NEED feedback. If you've already reviewed, review again! Say you liked it, say you hated it, but leave a note for me in the little box. *Please*?  
  
lyrasoze@hotmail.com  
  
  
  
  



	4. Now What?

Here it is, the long awaited Chapter 4. I want to thank all of you who  
have reviewed or emailed me to let me know how much you are enjoying  
Operation: YES!!! It's so great to hear from you, and some of you have  
prom stories that kept me laughing forever.   
  
Marvelous, that's what you all are. I love every one of you.  
  
'M' is for Money. Mommy and Daddy always fight about money.   
Money is the root of all evil. See the money. The money is   
green. The money is in Mommy's purse. Take the bad bad money  
out of Mommy's purse and send it to P.O. Box 42, St. Louis,   
Missouri. Then Mommy and Daddy will be happy.'  
  
You have to love Shel Silverstein.  
  
Disclaimer: If you think I own Sailor Moon, I can't help you.  
  
  
Operation: YES!!!  
Chapter 4 ~ Now What?  
  
*~*~*~*~*Serena's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
It is amazing just how far a simple apology can go toward   
lightening a load of guilt. Too bad that I'm rather horrid at   
said apologies. Still, leaving an impersonal email message on  
Darien's answering machine lifted my self esteem. I had done the   
right thing. I had admitted that I had been wrong. I was fairly sure   
that this was a step in the direction of personal growth.  
  
I made a note in my day planner. Hey, things like this deserve  
to be recorded for the generations to come. Besides, I doubted that  
Mina would believe me if I didn't write it down.   
  
The rest of the evening was peaceful. At least, it was peaceful  
after I managed to get my little brother to turn the   
sound on his damn video game down. Not that I object to a little movie  
every now and then, but the fact that he kept dying in the same place,   
and the game kept playing the same video over and over again was   
starting to get on my nerves, to be quite frank. And when I   
asked him to turn it down or skip the video, he replied (in a highly   
superior way) that he couldn't skip the video and that the sound   
helped him concentrate. And I was tired of hearing some crazy ogre bellow  
about a treasure buried under the mountain and guarded by an army of   
goblins, seventy different types of booby traps and a dragon. So I   
took measures and he got upset and chased me around the house till   
my dad sent both of us off to do our homework.  
  
His reaction was a bit uncalled for. All I did was unplug the  
TV and kidnap the game consol.  
  
Some people are so touchy.  
  
But, as older sisters usual do, if only by virtue of size, I   
remained triumphant. I had little homework, and that was easily remedied.  
So I finished my work, grabbed a new manga and kicked back on my bed.  
  
Life was good.  
  
And then it turned surreal.   
  
You see, I thought that my Prom worries were over. So I wasn't  
going. I could handle that. After all, I could have gone, and chose  
not too. That was my decision and I was proud of it. I had already  
counted the number of times that I had insulted him, and I must   
admit, I thought there was a limit to what the male ego could take.  
  
Shows how much I know.  
  
*~*~*~*~*Darien's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
It had taken a while to get the preparations in order. After all,  
I am not a miracle worker...though I have been know to give a decent   
impression. I pulled strings, made deals, and when all else failed, I  
bribed. Hey, whatever works.  
  
But it was still later than I would have liked when I got   
everything in order. Of course, my neighbors have moved from merely  
speculating that I am a nut case to being one step away from calling  
the proper authorities and having me locked up.   
  
I must admit, I looked...interesting. Not bad interesting, but  
it certainly wasn't the kind of thing one saw everyday. But that was   
the look I was going for. So, after loading my supplies into my car,   
I headed in the direction of Serena's house. How did I know where   
it was? I have connections children. A word to the wise - make   
friends with the school secretaries. They are very nice people and   
have such useful information at their fingertips.  
  
Moving on.  
  
It took a while to get to her house. I wasn't about to ask for   
directions, so I just drove around in circles till I was sure I had the   
right house. There would be no mistakes this time.   
  
You may have discerned by now that I am a very determined person.  
The word 'NO' has very little effect on me. And it was different now.   
The stakes had changed. It was time to be charming, dashing and normal.  
  
Operation: YES!! was about to enter its final and most critical   
stage. I parked my car several blocks away from her house and walked   
back. It didn't take much to convince Mrs. Tsukino to help me out.  
  
All woman love roses and romance.  
  
*~*~*~*~*Serena's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
I had just opened my new manga when I heard the doorbell ring. My   
mother or father answered it, and I listened intently for the sound of my  
friend's voices. Nothing. So I shrugged and went back to my manga.   
  
Five minutes later I heard a tap at my door.   
  
"Come on in," I called, not looking up. My mother entered. I was  
expecting some sort of order or perhaps magic laundry (you know, the   
kind that seems to do itself every now and again) and was surprised   
when she cleared her throat. I looked over at her.  
  
She was holding a long stemmed red rose in her hand.  
  
She held said rose out to me.   
  
"Oh, Mom. What's that for?" I asked, standing up and walking  
over to take the rose from her. Genuine surprise here, folks. The   
thought running through my head...my mother felt sorry for me. I was  
torn between feeling elated and horribly embarrassed.   
  
She saved me the trouble.  
  
"I didn't get it for you dear. You might want to read the note.  
And don't forget your jacket."  
  
I stared at my mother blankly. She smiled and left the room, closing  
the door gently in her wake. So I stared blankly at the door for a while.  
Not the most intelligent reaction, but I was all out of creative responses.  
So I did the only thing I could.   
  
The note was a attached to the rose via a sparkly ribbon of a deep red  
shade. It was in one of those really nice florist envelopes, and I didn't  
want to damage the card. So I opened the envelope carefully and removed the   
card gently.   
  
Said card was fairly simple. It was cream, and made of some fairly   
sturdy material. It was bisected by a picture of a long stemmed red rose,  
not unlike the one I held in my hand. Above the rose, it read;  
  
*When there's love inside, I swear I'll always be strong.*  
  
Below the rose, it said;  
  
'Front Gate.'  
  
I blinked. It took me all of five seconds to react. I threw open my   
door and dashed down the stairs. I was halfway out the front door when I   
heard my mother.   
  
"Jacket! Be back by eleven."  
  
Run back in, slide across floor to closet, grab jacket. Slide back to   
door while putting jacket on. Grab shoes, put shoes on while hopping to door.  
Open door, run outside, shut door and run to gate.  
  
This whole production took a grand total of three minutes.  
  
I got to the gate, and saw another rose lying on the pavement. Same  
type of red ribbon, same white envelope. Coincidence? I think not. I picked   
up the rose and opened the envelope, pulling the card out. Same kind of card,  
same setup.  
  
*Then there's a reason why, I'll prove to you we belong.*  
  
'Corner.'  
  
I still had the rose from my room in my hand, so I added the second rose   
to my right hand and ran to the corner. It must have been a sight. Of course,  
the way I had it figured, I had been providing an fountain of amusement for  
two days. There was no real reason to stop now. So I ran to the corner, and   
there was rose number three, waiting on the pavement.  
  
Amazing that no one had stolen it.  
  
Restores my faith in humanity.  
  
*I'll be the wall that protects you; from the wind and the rain, from  
the hurt and the pain.*  
  
'Crown Arcade.'  
  
I took off in the direction of downtown. I was so exhilarated by this that  
I didn't even stop to think who might be sending these roses. It didn't  
really matter. As far as I was concerned, this was the stuff of romance novels  
and romantic movies. Things like this never happened to ordinary girls  
like me, and I was way too caught up in the moment to think about anything   
but getting to the Crown Arcade.   
  
I dodged people and traffic like a crazy person, and I believe that's  
exactly what the majority of those I passed believed me to be. After all,  
it's not every day that you see a girl with incredibly long blond hair   
(arranged in an admittedly distinct style) a striped skirt and a white  
blouse with a pale pink jacket running down a busy street with three long   
stemmed red roses clutched in her hand.  
  
Which may account for why so many people just got out of my way.   
But I digress.  
  
The Crown Arcade was fairly busy when I got there. Lots of people  
eating, chatting, having a good time. I tried to look normal...you know,  
blend in. It didn't work. Imagine that.   
  
Everyone's eyes swung toward me. Some wise a$$ moved his chocolate   
malt away from me. You see, I found that to be insulting. I have better  
things to do than crown every moron with a chocolate ice cream concoction.  
  
Good Lord. If I made that my life's mission, I'd never sleep.  
  
I walked over to the counter and held up the roses with a smile.   
Andrew-who-worked-there smiled and held up a finger. He vanished into the  
back for a second, leaving me alone in a room full of strangers who were  
all staring at me. The only sounds were those emitted by the video games.  
They stared at me. I ignored them.   
  
Don't people have *anything* better to do?  
  
I sighed and rolled my eyes. Andrew emerged with my rose and   
presented it with a flourish. I took it and turned on my heel.  
  
"Aren't you going to open it?" Andrew called.  
  
I shot him a smile and a wink over my shoulder. He laughed as I   
pushed the door open and walked down the street a ways. When I was out   
of sight of the arcade, I pulled the card out of the unsealed envelope.   
  
*Let's make it all for one, and all for love. Let the one you  
hold be the one you want, the one you need.*  
  
'Sailor V Game.'  
  
I groaned and walked back to the arcade with a lot less enthusiasm.   
I pushed the door open and walked inside, well aware of the reception I  
was about to recieve. Eyes swung toward me as I plodded back inside. I   
walked with my head held high to the Sailor V game and opened my mouth.  
The kid playing said game looked at my hand with something akin to fear.  
  
"You can have the game. Just don't dump anything on me!"  
  
He vacated the game with haste. I resisted the urge to groan.  
I had been intending to ask him if he could move for a moment and   
a moment only. This was my purpose in opening my mouth. I had not  
been intending to insult him or yell at him or scare him.   
  
He had obviously seen my display the other day.   
  
I was never going to live that down.  
  
I plopped down at the consol and ran my hands under the   
game. Nothing. Under the seat. There it was, taped on. I pulled   
the rose free and opened the card, well aware that the whole arcade   
was watching me do so.   
  
*Cause when it's all for one it's one for all.*  
  
'Park. The bench in the center.'  
  
I stood and walked outside once again. It occurred to me as  
the door swung shut that no one had made a sound for the duration   
of my stay.  
  
Now that, my friends, is power.  
  
I smothered the urge to let loose with a thoroughly evil laugh,  
and picked up the pace instead. It was getting colder, and later. I   
glanced at a store clock on the way by. 9:25. I had and hour and 35   
minutes before I was due home. I moved into a run.  
  
The result of running was that by the time I reached the park,   
I was nearly out of breath. I, fortunately, have had much practice   
running around after or away from my brother for long periods of time,  
so I was used to the speed. But I still had to take a few deep breaths  
before picking up the rose that lay on the park bench in front of me.  
This rose was white, and there was a scrap of red paper attached to it.  
I lifted the rose and inhaled it's perfume while opening the note.  
  
It was made of red construction paper and cut into the shape of   
a heart. There was one word printed on the inside.  
  
*When there's someone that should know, then just let your feelings   
show, and make it all for one...*  
  
'Please?'  
  
Written in little hearts.  
  
And my heart skipped a beat. I swear I nearly stopped breathing.   
From behind me came the sound of footsteps, and I turned quickly, my hair   
flying around me. There stood Darien Chiba, dressed to the nines in a   
full out tuxedo, with six red roses in his arms.  
  
"And all for love," he sang softly.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
That took long enough to post. Sorry all. Finals are the product of  
all things evil. That is all I have to say on the subject.   
  
The parts of the notes that are braced by stars are lyrics from the   
song 'All For Love', the theme from one of my all time favorite movies,  
'The Three Musketeers' staring Charlie Sheen and Oliver Platt. I don't   
own that either. Go figure. 


	5. What Do You Say?

In honor of the Prom (or Morp, or whatever your particular school prefers) I present the next installment of Operation: YES!!! I am so happy! HUZZAH! Oh, and some very exciting news. Remember way back in Chapter 1 when I mentioned that this story was based on my friends Laura and Josh and their oh-so-entertaining Prom experience? Well, I saw them when I was home for Spring Break, and they are engaged! So, Laura and Josh, this chapter is for you, with many good wishes!  
  
'IT'S NAP TIME! Do you want to take a nap? Lie down and close your eyes. It is dark. You can listen in the dark. What do you hear? Do you hear the Boogey Man? Do you hear the werewolf? Do you hear the Bloody Monster? No no. There is nothing there at all. Now go to sleep.'  
  
~Shel Silverstein. (Maybe I should up the rating on this fic based on the Silverstein quotations at the beginning. Hmmm. Nah! Yes, I have a twisted sense of humor. *evil grin*)  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon. Once more, with feeling!  
  
Operation: YES!!!  
Chapter 5 ~ What Do You Say?  
  
*~*~*~*~*Serena's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
This was not fair. This was *so* not fair. He was being nice again! Give a guy an apology, and he runs wild. This was my inner voice talking, rationalizing with me.   
  
- Come on, Serena. Just because he bought you balloons? And a teddy bear? And a dozen roses? And scattered them all over the city with romantic little cards on them? Just because of *that* you are going to say...? -  
  
I listened to that little voice. I heard her out. I waited until she wound down, out of a deep respect for the workings of my psyche. Then I stomped on her. She obviously had nothing constructive to say. And once I closed the iron metal door over that stupid voice that had gotten me into this situation in the first place, I found that things weren't quite as complicated as I had first imagined.  
  
*~*~*~*~*Darien's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
She wasn't moving.  
  
Serena was standing in the middle of the park, in a very short skirt (not that I was complaining...no, no, I wasn't going to go there...) clutching five long stemmed red roses and a single white one, and staring as if she had never seen anything quite like me. I didn't want to credit the thought, but there seemed to be only one explanation for this extended pause.  
  
- She is speechless. Impossible. This girl can't possibly have nothing to say...oh, God, I've scared her. Very nice, Chiba, really smooth. Now she thinks you're a raving lunatic. If she didn't think you were nuts before, there is a very real possibility that she now considers you a terminal head case. -  
  
And for all I knew, she was right. She'd all ready told me no. Not once, not twice...I'd actually lost track of the number of times I'd asked her. It had to be at least six, if you counted all those presents. Not counting the other prospective date I had chased off. She probably thought I was a stalker.   
  
My neighbors had been accurate in their analysis.   
  
I was crazy.  
  
I nearly blushed. Actually, I may have.   
  
"Listen, Serena, I know that you may see this as a little over the top, and I don't blame you, but I promise I'm not crazy. Well, not certifiably crazy anyhow, and..." I stopped talking. I was babbling. I never babble. Cool, collected and confident guy. Right.   
  
I was in big trouble.   
  
And through it all, Serena just stared at me. And finally I gave up and stared back at her. It wasn't the best reaction I had ever had, but there wasn't anything else to do. I couldn't think of anything intelligent to say, so I kept my mouth shut and watched Serena. It wasn't a hardship. A slight breeze blew up, ruffling her skirt and my jacket. I let my kept my eyes on her, just watching her face, her expression. I had no idea why I was having such a hard time thinking of something to say. We had talked before...why was this time so different?  
  
"You look good in a tux."   
  
I jumped. She had spoken. Well, that was progress. Now we were communicating. Still, I wasn't certain I could speak without babbling, so I smiled and looked down.   
  
- Very smooth, Chiba. First you blush, then you babble, now you are embarrassed. This can't possible get any worse. Just get out while you are able to cling to a few shreds of dignity. -   
  
"Darien?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Hey, a conversation. We were moving into high tech territory now. Two words, but it was an improvement.  
  
"I don't understand," Serena paused, as though searching for words. She settled for a shrug and a slight toss of her arms. She tightened her grip on the roses, and looked down at them. Then she looked back up at me, a bewildered and slightly curious expression on her face. "I really don't get it. Why go to all this trouble?"  
  
I paused. The last time she had asked me this question, I hadn't had an answer for her. Well, I had, but not one that I felt comfortable sharing with the greater student body population. So I had kissed her instead of attempting to respond verbally. I thought it was much more satisfactory than batting words around for a few minutes. And she had kissed me back and all had been right with my universe. Ultimately, though, I had pissed her off, a mental state that I seemed to have a great deal of skill in inspiring Serena towards. This time around, the reply required great consideration. Why couldn't I take no for an answer?  
  
- Because you like this girl. You like her a lot. You like that she said no, that she didn't fall at your feet the very first time you spoke to her. You like that it took effort, and that you actually had to work, hell, are still working, to get a date. You appreciate her attitude, her sense of humor, her sarcasm. She isn't boring. -   
  
There I was again, in the same situation I had found myself in earlier this same day. I didn't have an answer to her perfectly reasonable inquiry. And, as many people know, if you have no answer, counter with a question.  
  
"Why do you keep saying no?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*Serena's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
*That* was a little unexpected. He had thrown me off balance...again. And I smiled. Just a little smile, more rueful than anything else...because the truth was, if you took away all the events that the past few days had wrought, my refusal was all about principal. He insulted me, I humiliated him...a truly entertaining, and at times enjoyably aggravating, cycle that just kept going and going and going; like the Energizer Bunny. Darien gained momentum from my reactions, and I was inspired to new heights of creativity by his persistence.   
  
All things considered, I had had a great time in the past few days. True, I had been insulted, humiliated, exasperated, and infuriated, but it had been one hell of a ride. Darien had made my life very interesting in the recent past.   
  
- He's funny. He's entertaining. He doesn't mind being the center of attention, and he handled public humiliation with grace. And really, how many guys could manage a smile with a chocolate malt crown? He's determined, that's for damn sure. And he has a great smile. -   
  
I found myself marveling at my change in perception. Five days ago, Darien Chiba had been a vague concept of a person. He had not entered my sphere of existence, and had therefore been rather unimportant. When he had crossed my mind, I had thought of him as cocky, sarcastic and cold. And he was all of those things. But he was also romantic, determined, and humorous. Then there was that whole drop-dead gorgeous thing he had going on, not to mention that he was a great kisser. He was an enigma; and I liked him. A lot.   
  
The absurdity of the situation struck me from a distance. This was Prom, not a lifetime commitment. It was one night, one night out of my life and his, a single evening. But it felt like something more. Hey, can you blame me? A starry night, roses, not to mention a gorgeous guy in a rather striking tuxedo? All we needed was the violin and a few movie cameras. But I found myself wondering what this one date might lead to. And I wasn't opposed to the idea in any way, shape, or form.   
  
I stood there, looking at the roses, and the stars, and feeling the breeze on my face.   
  
"Are you going to ask again?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*Darien's POV*~*~*~*~*  
  
Was I going to ask again? I thought I'd all ready done that...but then again, maybe she wanted to hear me say it.   
  
- And hey,- I thought, with a sort of mental shrug, - why the hell not? The worst she can say is no...again. -   
  
It all sounded so simple, so rational in my head. Mentally, I knew that if she turned me down, it wouldn't be the end of the world. I had taken physics, so I was fully aware that the world would continue spinning merrily on its axis no matter what the outcome of my love life. But the question became, what would I do if she said no? If she turned me down this time, would I ask her again? Would I accept her answer and begin my search for another date?  
  
For something I had once thought so trivial, the Prom was becoming something much more. I couldn't believe that a dance, something I had scoffed at for years, mocked endlessly, had become such a large part of my life in recent days. And I didn't mind at all.   
  
I walked up to Serena, offered her the remaining red roses, which I had forgotten I had been holding, and when she accepted them, I took her free hand.   
  
"Serena, will you attend the Prom with me?"  
  
I waited nervously, uncertain of my reception. I blanked my face and stood up straight. It was enough to make my ex-ballroom dancing teacher proud. But I kept my eyes on Serena's face, and I waited.   
  
Serena looked down at her shoes, and lifted the roses to her face. She inhaled their perfume and I saw her eyes drifting closed. Her lashes formed dark crescents on her cheeks. The breeze kicked up again, tugging at the rose petals. A few of them jumped free and swirled in the breeze, away from us and into the night. I watched them go, and loosened my grip on Serena's hand. Serena hadn't answered, and I knew that she was trying to think of a way to let me down gently. You know how people are always saying that you can feel your heart sinking? Well, it's true. And mine was sinking to do the 'Titanic' proud. I appreciated the gesture, but I knew that if I just walked away now, this whole thing would be a lot easier. Besides, if she had a pie hidden somewhere, I didn't want to be around when she decided to throw it.   
  
That thought made me smile. She wouldn't do that. Why repeat a trick? But her rejection still stung, and stung a lot deeper than I had ever imagined it would. I wasn't sure why...she had turned me down before. But this time, this time I had genuinely wanted her to say yes. I started to take a step back, intent on fading into the background.  
  
Serena's hand shot out and grabbed mine. Quickly, she twined her fingers through my own and pulled me back to my original position. I was shocked. Hand holding? That must mean she wanted me to stick around. I felt my heart begin to lift, helium balloon style. Then she looked up at me and smiled; a brilliant, blinding smile.   
  
'Wow,' I thought, and started to smile myself. Because that bright of a smile...well, though I had a good idea what it meant, I didn't really care. Because I felt the urge to give this girl anything she wanted to keep her smiling like that for the rest of her life. Preferably at me.   
  
Serena took one of the red roses out of the bouquet in her hand, and broke off the stem. She had to drop my hand to do it, as one hand was occupied with the profusion of roses I had showered upon her, but she managed quite well. I was impressed, and I didn't move. There wasn't any reason to; I was very happy right where I was. Still smiling, she tucked it into my lapel and patted the flower gently into place. Still holding my hand, which I was more than willing to relinquish to her permanent care, Serena stepped in closer to me, so close that we were almost touching, and turned her face up toward mine. She was still smiling, and I felt the smile on my face growing to match hers.  
  
"Okay." 


	6. Are Some Things Meant To Be?

lyrasoze@hotmail.com  
  
Hi everyone! Here is the next Chapter of Operation: YES!!! That's right, the   
one that I've been working on for months and not posted. College...a wonderful  
and yet time consuming experience. But here we have the next installment, to be followed by a more, I promise.  
  
AN: wintercreek, you are the best friend and beta reader a girl could ask for.  
Love ya, babe!   
  
Disclaimer: If I own nothing interesting. Honest.  
  
Operation: YES!!!  
By Lyra Matsuoka  
Rated: PG-13  
  
Chapter 6: Are Some Things Meant To Be?  
  
I was having a very hard time keeping my eyes open. And   
by hard time I mean that I had ceased to try nearly two hours ago  
and had effectively given up any pretence of alertness about the same  
time. Shopping for *the* Prom Dress is always a tiring process, as   
there are very distinct standards that one must observe at all times.   
  
1) One must always remember that one will be displaying said dress for   
a long period of time, and it must therefore be slightly comfortable.   
  
2) One must also remember that this dress will be worn in the presence   
of the entire school, and must therefore make a bold and preferably   
dramatic statement about style and taste.  
  
3) One must always, always, ALWAYS bear in mind that one will   
have to display this dress before one's father and one's   
date at the same time. The possibility of spontaneous   
human combustion and the random firing of deadly weapons should   
be kept to a minimum at all costs.  
  
These are difficult principles to maintain at the very best of   
times. But when five girls attempt to accomplish this task en mass,   
the odds of achieve these values goes from 'Slim to None' to   
'No Way In Hell Are You Leaving The Mall With Your Sanity Intact'  
in .5066 seconds.   
  
And so it was that the Sunday before Prom found me curled up in  
a chair in some random department store, waiting for Mina and Raye to display the latest dress rack discoveries for Lita, Amy and me. I had seen hundreds  
of dresses in hundreds of different colors during the last five and a half hours. Dress shopping was not supposed to take this long. Not ever. It was a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Not that I don't love my friends. I do. I might walk over hot coals for them. I might, perhaps, travel to exotic locals with them. But I would never, ever, ever go Prom shopping with them again. I might not ever go shopping again, period. My allowance would certainly appreciate that.   
  
I was in the middle of pondering what I would do with my money if I didn't   
feel the need to spend it on clothing and fabulous shoes and books and what not   
when Mina stepped out of her dressing room sporting Dress Number 345.   
  
"Well? What does everyone think?"   
  
I pried my eyes open for a millisecond in an attempt to decide   
if this particular dress was worth the effort of raising my head. It  
was. I raised my head and appraised the selection. I had to admit it looked fabulous on her. Spaghetti straps, with a tightly fitted bodice and a  
full skirt that Mina obviously adored. Mina was examining her figure   
in the mirror and seemed pleased with what she saw. And by pleased I  
mean that she was wearing a grin that dwarfed the Western Hemisphere.   
  
"This is the one," she declared.  
  
"Thank God. Can we eat now?" Lita declared. Amy nodded fervently.   
I gave the thumbs up as my head slumped back into the curve of my   
arm; it seemed a waste of energy to cast my vote verbally. Mina   
vanished into the dressing room. Again I closed my eyes and   
resisted the urge to sigh. Raye emerged shortly thereafter and   
Lita smacked the top of my head lightly.   
  
"Raye has something to show the class," she muttered.   
  
"Is it red silk?" I asked somewhat incoherently. The last twelve   
dresses had been variations on the red silk theme, and they were all  
beginning to blur together in my mind.  
  
"No. It is definitely not red silk. And believe me when I say that  
you really want to see this."  
  
Muttering uncharitable phrases under my breath, I raised my head and   
opened my eyes slightly. When I saw Raye standing in front of the mirror my eyes   
flew wide. Unlike her previous choices, this dress was black velvet shot through   
with very dark red silk. The strapless design clung to her body like a second   
skin and ended just above the knees. My jaw dropped.   
  
"Damn, girl..." Lita commented.   
  
"Wow," I added, contributing to the intelligent discussion. Raye nodded in   
satisfaction.   
  
"Perfect," she declared.  
  
While waiting for Raye and Mina to conclude their business with this fine   
establishment, Amy and I browsed through the Prom racks again. The two of us   
already had our dresses, so this was purely recreational. I held up a   
particularly stunning design that seemed to be comprised entirely of separate   
pieces of fabric. How this wisp of silk was supposed to stay on any variation   
of a human body I had no idea. And quite frankly...   
  
"I don't even want to know," I muttered, thrusting the dress back onto the   
rack.   
  
"In situations such as this, it is doubtless better not to ask questions,"   
Amy stated. We both grinned and turned toward the sound of money changing hands.   
Shortly, Raye, Mina and Lita joined us and we all began the trek toward the food   
court. This was a journey of truly epic proportions, taking us back toward the   
part of the mall we had explored earlier that day. And after purchasing our food   
and fighting a group of prepubescent boys for a table, the conversation turned   
away from dresses and school toward your favorite subject and mine...me.   
  
Or rather, me and my love life...and the center of said love life. In  
other words, it was time to play 'Try And Convince Your Friend To Spill Her  
Proverbial Guts.' The reason for this scrutiny? Well, I had steadfastly refused  
to explain how it was that Darien convinced me to go to the Prom with him.   
One day I was throwing erasers at intercoms, and the next day Darien and I  
are going to the Prom. Go figure.   
  
Of course, some of the plot was common knowledge. Everyone had seen  
the roses at the arcade, for example, and everyone who had witnessed me  
dashing around madly and frightening small children away from video games  
had hurried to relate the tale to anyone who would listen.   
To his credit, Andrew had kept his mouth shut, and Darien flashed that   
mysterious little smile anytime a member of the student body worked up   
enough guts to ask him directly. The girls wanted to know all the juicy  
details and the guys wanted to know what Darien's secret was and by   
God they weren't stopping until they had both.   
  
And the fact that neither Darien nor I was willing to confess all  
just added fuel to the gossip. As many people know, silence in the face   
of juicy gossip bears a large resemblance to pouring gasoline on an open  
flame. The suspicions and stories got crazier by the day.   
  
Not that I would have objected to being thrown a diamond ring from  
a hot air balloon or whisked off to New York City for the weekend, you  
understand.   
  
But the clincher was that I refused to tell even my closet friends   
what had conspired on that chilly April evening. Why, you may ask? Allow  
me to explain my reasoning. It might seem perverse at first glance   
but is in reality well thought out. As previously stated, I love my friends   
dearly. But Mina is incapable of keeping a juicy secret. Oh, she could   
manage to keep quiet for a few days, but eventually, each and every   
detail of that night would be made public. Probably in some   
horrifically embarrassing way. Example: a live television broadcast.   
You mock now, but Mina's enthusiasm knows no bounds. And I'm   
really not so much about public humiliation. Can we say been there,  
done that, got the t-shirt, the souvenir mug and the baseball cap?  
And since anything I told my other friends would get back to Mina   
eventually, I was inclined to keep my mouth shut.   
  
And I was the first to admit that this was gossip worthy stuff.   
Front-page gossip section material. Well, he'd been so understanding   
about the whole milkshake on the head thing (even admitting that he   
might have deserved it), and he'd gone to so much trouble to  
set up that rose hunt, and then he'd been so sweet...what was I   
supposed to do? Leave to poor guy hanging? When he'd proved himself to  
be such a good kisser? What do you think I am, a saint?   
  
So my charitable 'Thank You For Being Such A Sweet Guy And Not At   
All Like The Jerk I Thought You Were And Treated You Like' kiss turned   
into something a whole lot more interesting. A whole lot more. And   
because it was so chilly, it seemed very natural to wrap my arms around  
his waist *under* his jacket rather than over. I won't   
bore you with the details, but I will say that I had a very satisfying   
evening all around. Except for the incident with the policeman and the   
obscenely bright flashlight he had with him.   
  
Fortunately he saw the roses and assumed that Darien had just   
proposed, so all we got was a lecture about public displays of excessive  
affection, a few comments about our age, and many hearty congratulations.  
I can't blame the poor man. After all, guys rarely wear a tux to ask a   
girl to Prom. So Darien and I had a good laugh over that before he took   
me home. And if I stayed in the car with him for a few minutes more than  
was absolutely necessary, that is no one's business but my own.   
  
But did that excuse work with my friends? No sir-ee. They were   
not taking no for an answer. I wasn't having much success with 'I  
don't kiss and tell'. Come to think of it, 'You'll never take me alive!'  
hadn't been all that successful either. But I continued to provide   
those catch phrases in response to the questions that just kept coming.   
  
"Serena, did it have anything to do with flowers?"  
  
"Of course it did! He gave her six roses!"  
  
"That we know about..."  
  
"You think there were *more*?!"  
  
"Yeah. I really do."  
  
"I like the hot air balloon theory myself."  
  
"Nah, I'm sticking with the private island."  
  
"You obviously haven't heard about the plane that wrote   
'I Love Serena' in the sky."  
  
"No way..."  
  
Obviously, speculations no longer required my presence. That was a   
change. A change that I appreciated - speculation required only the   
occasional shrug and a cryptic 'I'll Never Tell' smile from me. So   
while my friends batted theories around, I ate my lunch, throwing the  
aforementioned smiles and shrugs into the conversation where   
appropriate. By the time I was eating my delicious and   
buttery mall pretzel, discussion had turned to pick-up times   
and voting for Prom King and Queen.   
  
"Obviously Prom King is going to be Darien."  
  
"I didn't think there was anyone else on the ballot," Lita   
commented.   
  
"Andrew's on the ballot. I saw his name in 10 point font at the   
bottom."  
  
"Only two contestants for King? There are twelve for Queen."  
  
"And Mina's one of them..." Amy said, digging her ballot out of  
her purse. Mina flushed and looked down while the rest of us congratulated   
her. I held out my hand and Amy passed me the ballot. Lots of names, lots  
of people I really didn't know. I knew Mina and that was about it. Not  
that it mattered. Prom King and Queen were a formality. They danced once   
together and got some kind of gift basket and were then sent on their way.  
But being Prom Queen was apparently a huge honor, and who was I to rail  
against tradition?   
  
"I think the Prom King contestants should fight for it. Have an all   
out wrestling match or something of that ilk," I said. My suggestion was met   
with smiles and at least one laugh. Good to know that my friends still found me   
amusing. "After all, no reason why it should be boring."  
  
"So you propose something along the lines of a jousting match to settle   
the Prom King race? I'll be certain to bring that up at the next student council  
meeting," came a voice from behind me. Three guesses as to who it was, and the   
first two don't count.   
  
My friends proceeded to do their best imitations of dissolving into  
puddles of goo as I leaned my head back and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Eavesdropping is a very nasty habit."  
  
"Is it now. Never would have guessed."  
  
"You are not nearly as charming as you believe yourself to be," I   
drawled. All evidence to the contrary. Mina was staring at Darien like he was   
some sort of dark haired god. I snapped my fingers right in front of her  
face.   
  
"Planet Earth to Mina. We'd love it if you'd join us."  
  
Mina's eyes flew to my face and she started to blush a deep shade of  
red. Right about then, Raye decided that she needed to look for accessories   
for the dress. Lita decided to help her, muttering something about lucky  
women and how lucky I was to be her friend and therefore spared her brand  
of vengeance. Two minutes later Amy dragged Mina off to sample perfume.   
Darien and I watched them go; Darien looked amused and I was shaking my head in   
amazement.  
  
"They'll never win a subtlety award," Darien commented as he slumped  
down into the seat next to mine.   
  
"That's my friends...direct and to the point," I added. "What's   
their time?"  
  
"Two minutes and four point three seconds."  
  
"Hence I win. You owe me a movie."  
  
"Right. Name the night," Darien said, slipping an arm around my   
shoulders. I settled into the curve of his arm. Hey, I'd had a whole  
two weeks of practice and I was getting pretty good at this snuggling   
thing.   
  
"Pretzel?"  
  
"Yes, thank you," Darien said. I extended a piece and proceeded to   
eat the last bite myself. While I was doing this, Darien leaned in and   
took the pretzel from me. Of course, he didn't use his hands. He took the   
bite of pretzel from me with his teeth and proceeded to lick my fingers   
clean, running his tongue over my index finger and thumb while keeping his  
eyes locked on me. Damn, but I loved when he did that. No guy should be  
allowed to be that sexy. Ever.   
  
"You two have single handedly raised the temperature of the room by  
ten degrees. Congratulations are in order."  
  
Andrew. Excellent. I tried to pull my hand away and Darien was having   
none of it. As he had often stated, we were a couple now. And couples held  
hands and spent time together. Evidently couples also got caught in   
embarrassing situations at times. Rules of a Relationship 101 - a class with  
no notes and more pop quizzes then any I had ever taken.  
  
"It's all in the wrist," Darien quipped. I rolled my eyes and turned my   
attention toward Andrew.   
  
"Hi, Andrew."  
  
"Hello, Serena. You are looking lovely this afternoon."  
  
"You shameless flirt," I responded. Darien mock glared at his best   
friend, which was very entertaining in and of itself, and proceeded to   
finish my soft drink while chatting with Andrew about some kind of  
sports team and the score of a particular game. I don't think I need to   
tell you that I wasn't all that interested in the topic of conversation, but   
I was mighty fascinated by the neck massage I was receiving. In another   
two seconds I was going to be purring...   
  
I opened my eyes momentarily when I moved my hair to allow Darien   
better access to my neck and shoulders. I wanted him to know that he was  
welcome to continue the massage for as long as he felt so inclined. My eyes  
fastened on the little piece of paper that was still on the table in front of   
me, and I grinned just thinking about the campaigns that were about to   
commence.   
  
Let the games begin.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
So, what did everyone think? Finals fluff...nothing better, really.   
  
lyrasoze@hotmail.com 


	7. Shall We Dance?

Now that it has officially taken me more time to write this chapter then it took for the last Ice Age to pass away, here is the final chapter of Operation: YES! My writing pace can only be described as glacial. 

Disclaimer: One of these days I will own something interesting. Today is not that day. Tomorrow isn't looking good either. So, if it looks familiar it probably doesn't belong to me.

Operation: YES!  
By Lyra Matsuoka

Chapter 7 : Shall We Dance?

Every year, the Prom has a theme. Said theme is never revealed until the day before Prom for reasons that have yet to be explained to me. I personally think it has something to do with the sadistic glee that comes from dozens of girls wailing simultaneously 'But my dress won't match!' Class elected representatives and the student body council theoretically select this theme with the able help of the "Prom Committee". I have always harbored suspicions that cyborgs from another planet would have better luck with themes than any Prom Com. I'm sure that many people find 'Jungle Paradise' and 'Night on the Town' to be delightful themes, but I was getting a little tired of having my picture taken with construction paper cutouts of a cityscape and/or leafy greenery as a background.

But this year, I had a date. A hot date. A World Series, Academy Award level date. That helped my cynicism considerably.

The school was in an uproar. Finals were rapidly approaching. So was graduation, but that wasn't what had most people in a dither. Dresses had been purchased, limos and tuxedos rented, and now we waited with breathless anticipation for a theme. Of course, elections for Prom King and Queen were in full swing, posters and streamers and various other 'Pick me, pick me, oh god pick me' paraphernalia were strewn about center court and the quad. Mina had chosen a tasteful topaz and gold banner that said simply 'Mina'. Personally, I thought she was a shoe-in. My boyfriend didn't need to bother with electioneering. He was more popular and visible than any other guy at our school, and with the shenanigans he'd enacted to entice me to be his date, his stock had soared. Darien Chiba didn't need to put a banner in the hallway. He just had to walk down said hallway and smile.

It was disgusting. Or it would have been, if I hadn't thought it was so damn cute.

I, of course, had been put through the slight humiliation of 'I told you so' and 'Knew it all the time' banter that continually circled my head when the two of us were together. I bore up gracefully, especially since Darien and I had done something few people had expected. We had actually started dating. It wasn't just the Prom anymore. We were an official couple.

That was gratifying, I must say.

The last bell of the week rang on Friday, and the Prom Countdown began. With slightly more than 24 hours to go, girls poured out of the school building chattering about manicures, hairstylists, restaurants and corsages. Guys meandered out, moaning about soon to be empty wallets and payday advances. I just smiled and slammed my locker door, and proceeded from the building. I felt an arm drape about my shoulders and smiled up at my boyfriend, who had endured more humiliation than I had believed the male ego possible of withstanding. I received a 120-watt smile and a kiss for my trouble.

Darien was really good at this boyfriend gig. I was getting better by the day. We received good-natured and a few outright hostile looks from single folk as we walked toward natural light and the end of our day. Having been one of those shooting the dirty looks a few weeks ago I ignored them. The intercom buzzed to life as we crossed over the school seal.

"Attention all students. The theme for Prom this year will be...drum roll please..." (a few obliging students pounded on lockers and stomped their feet. I rolled my eyes as a contribution to the festivities) "Stairway to Heaven!"

Cheers and groans broke out amidst the crowds of students. I nodded slowly.

"Not a bad choice, Mr. President," I said with a grin. "Tell me, who on the committee is a Zeppelin fan?"

"I'm wounded that you have to ask," Darien said, a hand going to his heart. I laughed and we resumed our leisurely trek back to my house. Darien had gotten in the habit of walking me home after school. This routine worked for the most part, especially when I came home right after school. If I returned a few hours after school, they were slightly less lenient. They didn't seem to buy my story that Darien was helping me with my homework. I couldn't blame them. They aren't stupid. But my mom and dad had done something very similar in high school, if with different people, and so my mom was keeping my father under control.

With any luck, this included the combination to the gun safe. Of course, now that Darien was a confirmed Zeppelin fan, as was my father, tensions might ease a wee bit. Hopefully that information would ease the way through the necessary ten minute conversation between the moment Darien arrived at my door to pick me up for Prom and the moment we made our escape into the night. Memo to self: mention similarity in interests over dinner. More than once.

* * *

Twas the night before Prom, and all through the house, my parents were worried, my brother a louse - mostly because he refused to stop mocking me about the Prom and, in particular, the parental reaction to my date. This in mind, I had scheduled to spend the night at Amy's place with the rest of my friends, partially to escape my family and partially to have a great time experimenting with personal beauty products. Tomorrow day would be spent styling each other's hair before our nail appointments. Typical female preparation rituals to take place amidst obscene amounts of junk food and movies such as 'Dirty Dancing.'

It was very brave of Ami's mother to offer their apartment. I was sure that there was insanity running through her family, but Amy had assured me that all was well. Her mom was on call and likely wouldn't be in the apartment for long, and actually trusted her daughter and her daughters friends not to blow the building up or set something important on fire. Reassured by the possibility of parental absence I had packed my bags and was getting in some last minute practice on my heels. This was endlessly amusing to my brother, who hadn't managed to stop laughing since the moment I put the heels on and terribly worrisome to my father, who hadn't been truly calm since I announced that I was not only going to Prom, but that I had a date with an older man. My mother was doing her best to keep the peace, but she hadn't managed to chase the wild look out of my father's eyes. So I pretended not to notice and he pretended that it wasn't happening. This was effective enough to keep the peace.

Last minute scrambling for flowers, cars, dinner reservations and even dates had upped the ration of happy and stressed out students by quite a lot. I was ready to pick up the red rose boutonnière the next afternoon and that was my only mandatory job. Otherwise, it was all gravy. Or colored bubbles. Or whatever particular metaphor starts your engine.

My to-do list firmly tucked in the corner of my mind, I finished throwing necessary items into my overnight bag and booked it out the door.

"Don't forget, I need the bathroom between 5 and 6 tomorrow night!"

"We won't forget, sweetie. Have a good time!"

My brother's shouted reply was muffled, either by food being shoved in his mouth or a hand being clapped over it.

* * *

There was no reason for anything eventful to happen that night. I made my way over to Amy's apartment and headed inside with a song in my heart and a bounce in my step. It was an innocent girls night with no foreseeable consequences. Amy answered the door and stepped back to let me inside, smiling all the while. I helped her break open the snacks that the five of us had been accumulating over the last few days. And eventually the rest of the crew showed up and out came Amy's mom who beat a hasty and well mannered retreat and left us alone in her well appointed apartment.

But it was Mina who began the chaos. Mina who had a brilliant idea and the supplies to pull it off - it was Mina who brought the hair dye.

"I absolutely refuse to do this," Lita said, studying the small box that promised highlights that looked completely natural. I was skeptically eyeing the five boxes arrayed in front of us, and Amy was looking at them with undisguised interest. I rolled my eyes and reached for the box closest to me.

"Well, this is a box for blonds, guaranteed to brighten your natural color and emphasize your natural highlights. And as I happen to like my hair just the way it is, I won't be participating."

"All right, all right, if it will make you guys feel any better I'll go first!" Mina proclaimed. "I bought this stuff off the shelf at the corner store. How bad can it possibly be?"

"And here comes the nightmare," Lita muttered as Mina traipsed off into the bathroom with her box of Golden Shimmer hair color clutched tight in her hand. Raye and Amy exchanged a dubious look and I heaved myself up off the floor and looked toward the bathroom. And started in to do battle.

Somehow I managed to convince Mina that it would be best to do just one strip of her hair, in case the color didn't turn out quite the way she expected. This seemed to be less than an issue for her, but I was having horrible mental visions of all the bad ways this particular experiment could turn out. And so, while Raye, Amy and Lita applied Lita's special, homemade, super secret facial mask, Mina and I tooled around with boxed hair color.

And, of course, it went wrong, though I'm sure that surprises no one. It certainly didn't surprise me. Notice that I didn't say it went horribly wrong, though. Because the effect was actually sort of cool. The Golden Shimmer hair dye had the interesting effect of turning her hair this shade of topaz - that was only a few shades darker than her dress. And since the streak was right near her face, it appeared as though Mina had intended this effect all along. And after her initial freak out, she decided that it wasn't so bad after all, and would make her stand out even more from her competition.

Another set of brilliant plans perfectly executed. Of course, the main topic of the night was My Plan. You could hear the capital letters every time it was mentioned. My Plan was the final step in the dance that I had begun with dumping a milkshake all over Darien's head. He thought he'd had the last word with that rose scavenger hunt and the tuxedo, but no.

This was going to be fantastic.

* * *

I didn't want to make Darien suffer. I'm not evil. But I did want to add a little extra something to Prom night, mostly because the guy had gone to an awful lot of trouble to convince me to go with him. Of course, between my refusals and his varied attempts, we'd pretty much exhausted creative avenues. And what I was going to say took some time to plan. 'Thank you' seemed a little too trite, and I didn't really want to get him a gift. I wanted to equal the gesture he had made to ask me to Prom, and I wanted it to be visible.

And since I couldn't ask him to marry me, I had to be a little more imaginative.

Truthfully, I had been thinking about something of this nature since I'd agreed/been bribed/been wooed into attending this function. But between me, my friends, Darien's friends, and the kindness of a few random strangers, I was ready to rock and roll.

The night of Prom rolled around quickly. I was surprised by how quickly it had arrived, honestly. I spent an extra forty minutes in the bathroom while my mother made chocolate chip cookies to shut my brother up and my father made a big show of stomping around the house while muttering about casings and trigger sensitivity. It didn't seem to matter that no one in the house was impressed; and if it made him feel better, I was all for it.

When the doorbell rang, my mother answered. This was a pre-arranged event carefully scheduled between the two of us. My brother was busy conquering a fire breathing troll or something of that ilk on his PlayStation and my father was content to lean against the dining room doorway and glower. I gave my lashes a final swipe with the mascara wand, checked my hair, and swept downstairs to make my entrance.

And I pulled it off in spectacular fashion. If I hadn't nearly fallen when I reached the bottom of the stairs it would have been even better, but I was willing to take what I could get. Besides, Darien caught me and we both started to laugh and couldn't seem to stop smiling after that. Because of this, all the pictures my mom took of the two of us are incredible. As I usually have a goofy expression on my face when pictures are taken of me, I was suitably grateful for that small mercy.

I won't bore you with the details of the drive to the restaurant and the dinner, mostly because it involved a lot of silence and staring at each other adoringly. We were those kids in the fancy outfits that old people sigh over and very young people roll their eyes at. We were a little sappy and had big smiles on the whole time. There was flirting, there was hand holding. It would have been totally disgusting if it hadn't been me who was participating.

And after a good dinner and a decadent dessert, we left for the Prom. The DJ was acceptable, though not fabulous. He played the greatest hits of every year since my parents attended Prom and we danced happily along with the beat. Hey, we're high school students and most of us were riding a high born of hormones, sugar and endorphins. We would have moshed to Mozart.

It was nearly impossible to talk on the dance floor or in that immediate vicinity, but we managed to track down our friends for a big group picture. We did the formal one, but the best one features Mina being held by her date, Raye and Chad cheek to cheek and grinning like maniacs, Amy and Greg outright giggling at each other, Lita and her guy arranged artfully on the ground and with almost identical mischievous gleams in their eye and me sort of half piggybacking on Darien. It was a great moment, and one that I am proud to display to anyone who wants to see it.

And eventually they announced the Prom King and Queen, and Darien and Mina took their turn on the dance floor with their plastic and sparkling crowns and the song 'Blue Moon' playing in the background. They each got a gift basket and had their picture snapped for the yearbook and the Prom picked up again. But I had somewhere to be.

"Hey," I said, sidling up to Darien and tapping his crown with an index finger. "Good look for you."

"Why, thank you," Darien said, attempting to look royal. It would have been much more effective had his crown not chosen that exact moment to slide forward, showering him and me with glitter. After a few minutes of laughing and sneezing as we batted ineffectually at the sparkling motes, we turned our attention to the dance floor.

"Good Prom," I said softly, leaning back against Darien's chest. I smiled a little when his arms came around my waist and his lips brushed against the top of my head. I got all melty inside when he did that.

"The best," he said, and my smile got bigger.

"The best, you say? Well, we do have gold streamers."

"And cotton ball clouds. Don't forget the cotton ball clouds."

"The music could be better."

"So could the punch."

"But the decorations are pretty classy."

"And they put beta fish on the tables for a touch of the wild."

"I am impressed with the student counsels dedication," I said, turning in Darien's arms and standing on tiptoe to brush my lips against his. "But you know what would make this night perfect? I mean, really top this off"  
"Do tell," Darien said.

"A chocolate malt."

Darien froze for a second, then threw his head back and laughed. I waited for his amusement to run its course, and then took his hand.

"Come on," I said.

And so we went to the Crown Arcade and ordered ourselves a chocolate malt. And burgers and fries. And we sat there in the florescent light and threw fries at each other and drank the malt through two straws and banged our foreheads together a few times more than I would have thought we would. And slowly, other people we knew started showing up and joining our table until we had a whole crowd of high school kids in fancy clothes and hairdo's ordering junk food and playing video games.

I glanced toward the park and saw what I had been waiting for. Once again I grabbed Darien's hand and pulled him to his feet.

"I have a surprise for you," I said. He widened his eyes in mock fear and moved the empty malt glass out of reach. I punched him playfully on the shoulder and made a face as I led him toward the door. Curious, our friends followed us to the park.

There was a band playing in the gazebo, just like there was every weekend starting in late March. And as always, the trees were lit with twinkling lights and lanterns glowed around the pond and the Japanese style bridge. It basically screamed romance, and though I hadn't had a hand in planning to location I was willing to take credit for having thought to utilize it. There was an open area around the gazebo, and I tugged Darien toward it with a single minded intensity. He followed, casting a few bewildered glances at his buddies over his shoulder as he went. I looked over at the man playing drums in the band, a man who happened to be an old college friend of my mother, and nodded once. He grinned and gave the signal to his buddy on guitar who struck the opening chord of the song I had chosen to complete my grand, if slightly personal, gesture.

Darien turned to look at the band, comprehension dawning on his features. He laughed once and hugged me. I slipped my arms around his neck as the drummer sang the lyrics into his microphone.

"When it's love you give, I'll be a man of good faith..."

"Thanks for not giving up," I whispered into Darien's ear as 'All For Love' played in the background. I felt him smile against my neck.

"Thanks for not saying no. Eventually," he whispered back. I knew that other couples were joining us and swaying slowly to the music that meant something very special to Darien and I. All of our friends were there and happy and having a grand old time, and I was dancing with a guy who really knew how to dance.

As I turned my gaze up to the star speckled night sky, I saw a shooting star race toward the full moon. I closed my eyes to wish, and opened them not a second later.

No need to wish. Things were pretty perfect just the way they were.

FIN


End file.
